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Tne Moonlight Walk through the Woods. 


Things Common. — Page 21 1 




Things Common and Uncommon. 


BY 


MARY DWINELL CHELLIS, 

i * 

Author of “Two Boys Saved,” “Good Work,” 
“At Lion’s Mouth,” Etc. 


> i » 

’> » 


BOSTON: 

CONGREGATIONAL PUBLISHING SOCIETY, 

CONGREGATIONAL HOUSE, 

BEACON STREET. 










COPYRIGHT, 

CONGREGATIONAL PUBLISHING SOCIETY, 

1875. 


' ■ * ) * 


K u V 





Boston 

Stereotyped by C. J. Peters > Son, 
73 Federal Street. 



CONTENTS. 


♦ 


The Home Visit 

CHAPTER L 

• • • • * 

PAGE 

. . 7 

A Glad Welcome 

CHAPTER H. 


Gleanings 

CHAPTER HL 


The Sugab-oamp 

CHAPTER IV. 


Old and Young 

CHAPTER V. 


Orphaned 

CHAPTER VI. 

• • • 

. 102 

Past Finding out 

CHAPTER VTL 

• • • • 

. . . 116 


0 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

PAGE 

The Prince of the Family 133 

% 

CHAPTER IX. 

Trees and their Sap 150 

CHAPTER X. 

The Hidden Waterfall 174 


CHAPTER XI. 

Out of Doors 197 

CHAPTER XH. 

Hunting and Trapping 211 

CHAPTER Xm. 

By Forest and Lake 232 

CHAPTER XIV. 

A Re-union 261 

CHAPTER XV. 

Narcotics 278 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Liliputians 297 

CHAPTER XVH. 

The New Teacher 324 

CHAPTER XVIH. 

Seeing and Hearing 351 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A Life Sayed , . 884 



THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

CHAPTER I. 

A HOME VISIT. 

HE winds of March blew fiercely, 
sounding its bugle call through all the 
land, by lake and river and mountain. 
Each leaf which had defied the blasts of 
winter to tear it from the parent stem now 
yielded to a resistless force, and danced 
in wildest measure at the bidding of its 
master. 

“ This is the kind of weather that tells on 



z 


S THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

a fellow,” exclaimed Mason Stuart, who was 
walking with his cousin, Dick Fielding. 
“ Hasn’t been any thing like it this winter, 
and I hope there wont be any more. Yes- 
terday that beech tree Aunt Margaret 
thinks so much of had lots of leaves on 
it, and now they’re all gone. Say, Dick, 
do you believe there’s any sign in it ? ” 

“In what ? ” was asked in reply. 

“In the leaves staying on. I’ve heard 
folks say, that, when d good many leaves 
stay on the trees, it’s a sign we shall have 
an open winter. Is it so ? ’ 

“ I don’t know. I think I’ve heard some- 
thing of the kind, but that is all I know 
about it.” 

“ Well, now, I wish folks were sure about 
things. It’s a great bother to ask questions, 
and not find out what you want to know ; 
and a fellow can’t study out every thing 
himself.” 


A HOME VISIT. 


9 


“ Why not?” 

“ Because there’s so much, he don’t have 
time. Seems to me everybody ought to 
know something certain. I thought you 
knew all about trees.” 

“ Then you were mistaken. I know moie 
about them than some other people, but that 
is very little. I can tell you how you can 
find out about the truth of the sign, as you 
call it. For the next ten or twenty years, 
notice the difference in the falling of the 
leaves, and see if there is a corresponding 
difference in the winters. In that way you 
can form a pretty correct judgment about 
it.” 

“ I suppose I could do that ; but it’s a 
good while to wait, and I’ve got a great 
many other things to look after. I’ll write 
it down, though, in my book.” 

“ What book ? ” 

Oh ! a book I’ve got, where I keep a list 


10 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

of tilings T want to know. I’ve been keep- 
ing it ever since Aunt Margaret went away. 
When I see her, I expect she’ll help me. 
She knows most every thing. If the rest of 
us were as smart as she is, there’d be some- 
thing done in the family.” 

“ I think there would. I am as ready to 
praise Aunt Margaret as you can be.” 

“ Shouldn’t wonder, but I don’t a bit 
believe you love her as well as I do. Tell 
you what, Dick, I wish there were some 
girls growing up just like her. You can 
laugh if you want to, but that’s a sensible 
wish.” 

“ So it is, Mason, a very sensible wish. I 
should like to see such girls, although just 
now I should rather see Aunt Margaret her- 
self.” 

“Well, you can’t. You’ll see somebody 
else if you go into the house ; and, as we are 
here, we might as well go in, though it’s 


A HOME VISIT. 


11 


awful lonesome. It don’t seem a bit as it 
used to when Aunt Margaret was here ; but 
then it’s her house, and that’s some com- 
fort.” 

Cousin Rachel greeted her guests cor- 
dially, and brought forward some choice 
apples which she rightly judged would be 
acceptable. 

“ There are apples like these at Austen- 
ville,” remarked Mason. 

“ So your aunt said in her last letter. I 
suppose you are expecting to see Edward 
before long.” 

“ He’s coming some time this week. 
Mother thinks he’ll be here to-morrow, but 
that will depend upon the luck he has in 
market.” 

“ I don’t think there’s any danger but 
what he’ll have good luck. I want him to 
come and make his visit, so your Aunt Mar- 
garet can come home and stay a while.” 


12 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

She wont come till every thing’s all 
right up there,” said Mason confidently. 
“ She runs that mill herself. I suppose Ed 
helps her, but she’s at the head of it.” 

There was no disposition on the part of 
the elder brother to dispute such an asser- 
tion as this ; but, when they met on the fol- 
lowing day, Mason mentally confessed that 
five months had wrought a wondrous change 
in “ Ed.” The young business man who had 
won marked favor for himself, and for the 
goods he had exhibited, was quite unlike the 
student who had abandoned his books under 
the pressure of a strong necessity. 

“Are you willing to remain in Austen- 
ville ? ” asked his mother after she had lis- 
tened to a detailed account of what had 
been done there. 

“ I am willing to remain there for the 
present,” was replied. “ There is a great 
deal I wish to see done there, and I should 


A HOME VISIT. 


13 


be sorry not to have some part in its accom- 
plishment. Aunt Margaret, too, has the 
same feeling.’’ 

“ I am glad she has, and I am glad you 
are satisfied with your position ; although it 
seemed to me a terrible calamity which sent 
you there.” 

“I seldom think of it, mother ; and, when 
I do, I am half inclined to consider it a 
blessing in disguise. When you see Margie, 
you will see at once that she has no need of 
sympathy. There’s not a bit of a careworn 
look in her face.” 

“ You have written to her since you have 
been away ? ” 

“ Certainly I have. I wrote her as soon 
as I had made arrangements for the sale of 
our goods. She understands the business as 
well as I do, and she has a greater interest in 
it.” 

44 Well, we’re going up there this summer, 


14 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

aint we?” now exclaimed Mason, who had 
listened silently to a long conversation of 
which these few sentences formed a part. 

“ You are all expected, and Aunt Field- 
ing’s family with you.” 

“ That means the children, don’t it ? If 
Uncle Fielding goes, he’ll be finding fault 
all the time about something. He’s worse 
than ever lately. I pity Dick, but I suppose 
they get used to their father’s fretting.” 

“ Mason, that’s not a proper way for you 
to speak,” said Mrs. Stuart in a tone of 
reproof. 

“ Well, it’s the truth, mother; but, if you 
say so, I ought not to tell of it. Some time, 
Ed, I want you to tell me all about your 
society, and those two boys Aunt Margie 
thinks so much of. I must go to work now. 
Mother and I thought ’twas best to buy a 
cow, and of course I have to take care of 
her. Clarke likes the milk and cream, but 


A HOME VISIT . 


15 


yon wouldn’t catch him soiling his hands in 
the barn. For my part, I never was afraid 
of clean dirt. Mother and I own the cow, 
and let the family have the use of it. I 
promised to take all the care of it without 
complaining, and we’ve had it a week now.” 

“ How about your lame ankle ? I wonder 
you assumed any new duties.” 

“ Oh ! that’s pretty near well, except 
when I forget, and start off full speed. We 
had a chance to buy the cow, and it’s always 
best to improve a good opportunity.” 

“ Mason is the same independent boy he 
always was,” remarked Edward, looking 
from his window as his brother crossed the 
yard with a slightly perceptible limp. 

“ Just the same,” replied the mother. 
“ But he is so good and truthful, I some- 
times think I ought never to find fault 
with him. He is as loyal to his friends as 
any armored knight. I bought the cow to 


16 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

please him. It is Mrs. Brown’s Clover Top ; 
and, whenever she can refund the money 
advanced on it, the cow will be hers again. 
This last winter Mason has manifested a 
decided friendship for Rufus, which I have 
not discouraged. Rufus cut his foot soon 
after Christmas, so that he couldn’t work for 
several weeks ; and that obliged his mother 
to run in debt. Week before last, she was 
so pressed for payment, and so troubled, that 
she decided to sell Clover Top ; and of 
course Rufus told Mason all about it. That 
is the explanation of our ownership of a cow. 
We shall probably keep her but a few weeks. 
Rufus is at work again, and has already paid 
something towards redeeming the family pet. 
There was no hay in Mrs. Brown’s barn, or 
we should not have taken her away. I 
think Mason has a plan for helping Rufus 
earn money, but he has not told me so.” 

Here Clarke, who had been from home at 


A HOME VISIT . 


17 


the time of his brother’s arrival, came in ; 
and amid their hearty greetings supper was 
announced by Lilia. 

“ We got the supper,” she added, regard- 
ing Edward a little shyly. “ Aunt Com- 
fort’s gone visiting, and we do the work.” 

“ How much do we do ? ” was asked. 

“ Ever so much. Ask mother if we don’t. 
We wash and wipe all the dishes, and set 
the table, and do ever so many other things, 
besides doing errands for Madge.” 

“ And how long is this order of things to 
continue ? ” 

“ Till Aunt Comfort comes back ; and, if 
she didn’t ever come, perhaps we should 
do it always, so mother could save her 
money.” 

“I don’t think that will be necessary. 
We are not so poor as that. We can afford 
to keep Aunt Comfort, and save your 
strength for something better than wash- 


2 


18 THINGS CO Mill ON AND UNCOMMON . 

in g dishes and ever so many other things, 
Aunt Comfort is one of our family.” 

“So she is,” chimed in Mason. “We 
can’t spare her long ; but it wont hurt the 
girls to work some, any more than it hurts 
me. ’Twouldn’t hurt Clarke to work either. 
Can’t you find something for him to do ? I 
guess he’s thinking about it himself ; but he 
spends a good deal too much time fixing his 
necktie, and blacking his boots.” 

“No one will make such a complaint of 
you,” responded the brother thus criticised. 

“No, sir: I don’t intend to give any 
occasion for it. I’ve got more important 
business on hand ; and ’twould be a good 
thing if you had.” 

“ Perhaps so,” was the good-natured reply. 
“We shall know better about that in ten 
years from now.” 

“We shall know something about it before 


that time, if we both live.” 


A HOME VISIT. 


19 


As housekeeper, Madge had been so ab- 
sorbed in making preparations for the enter- 
tainment of her brother, that her face did 
not lose its anxious expression until she was 
heartily complimented upon the success of 
her efforts. 

“ Madge don’t like to be dictated. She 
wants to be mistress herself; and mother 
told her she might, as long as she kept 
things straight. I tell you, she’s a pretty 
nice housekeeper, though we all help her,” 
explained Mason. 

“ I think she is, if this supper is a speci - 
men of her skill,” replied Edward. “ Aunt 
Margaret will be astonished to hear of such 
ability in her namesake.” 

“ Oh ! you see we’re all learning to do 
something. Aunt Margaret and you aint 
the only smart ones in the family, if you 
have started a mill. You don’t deserve 
much credit for that either. You wouldn’t 


20 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

thought of doing such a thing if Aunt 
Margaret hadn’t told you.” 

“ That is true, Mason. She deserves all 
the credit. I have only been helping her.” 

“Well, now, that’s a sensible way to talk. 
I knew it all the time ; but I didn’t know as 
you’d own it. You’re improved since you 
went to Austenville, and you’ve grown 
better looking too.” 

This climax of criticism provoked shouts 
of laughter from all except the critic, who 
didn’t “see any thing to laugh at.” 

The girls were still busy in the kitchen, 
when their cousins came to see “ the manu- 
facturer, and hear the news.” It was well 
for Edward Stuart, that, when interested in 
a subject, he did not soon tire of it; for it 
was quite certain that he must talk of Aus- 
tenville, unless he positively refused to do 
so. No one could be more desirous to learn 
of every thing pertaining to the old mill 


A HOME VISIT . 


21 


and its surroundings than was Dick Field- 
ing. 

“ I almost envy you the privilege of being 
there, Cousin Edward ; but I am very glad 
the property was not allowed to go out of 
the family. That would have been a sad 
mistake. I wish I had been of age, and 
could have taken mother’s portion. Next 
to having it myself, I would rather Aunt 
Margaret should have it. I hope she will 
make a fortune, and you too.” 

“ Thank you for that. We hope to make 
the mill profitable.” 

“ I don’t doubt you will. That mill ought 
to have been run through the war ; but there 
was nobody to do it. It’s a grand old place 
about there, isn’t it ? ” 

“ It seems so to me. Uncle William 
builded well, and Nature had done a great 
deal for the place before he began his 
improvements.” 


22 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ It seems strange that he should allow 
so much property to lay idle. I don’t think 
it was right.” 

“In one sense, he had a right to do what 
he pleased with his own. But our people 
think it was wrong for him to abandon the 
mill as he did ; although not one of them is 
disposed to blame him. He was very popu- 
lar, and he is still remembered gratefully. 
This summer you are coming up to see for 
yourself, and then you can judge of our 
prospects.” 

“ I hope to go. I believe I am as impa- 
tient for the visit as Sadie is. I wonder 
sometimes where you will find room for us 
all.” 

“ Your wonder will cease when you have 
once tested the capacity of the great house. 
There is plenty of room for you all ; and, if 
you don’t find every chamber luxuriously 
furnished, you can imagine that you are rus- 


A HOME VISIT. 


23 


ticating in a new country. Aunt Margaret 
and Mrs. Bumstead will manage to make you 
comfortable. Mason can sleep in the barn 
if necessary.” 

“ I suppose I could; but you needn’t think 
Aunt Margaret will turn me into any worse 
place than she does the rest of you. She 
knows I like things nice, as well as anybody ; 
only I aint going to be silly about it. I think, 
too, there’s something for folks to do in this 
world besides prinking up,” said the boy stur- 
dily. “I say, Dick, shouldn’t you like to 
camp out a week, just to see how ’twould 
seem ? Ed, haint you got somebody up there 
that can go with us ? Aint there somebody 
that knows enough about the woods to give 
us a fair start ? ” 

“ I presume there is. Harold Dorsey 
knows more about the woods than many 
people ever learn. I can’t promise him for 
camping out : but, if you can make friends 


24 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

with him, he will tell you a good many 
things it would be well for you to know. 
He is reticent and shy ; but perhaps you can 
gain his confidence.” 

“He’s a boy, same as the rest of us, aint 
he?” 

“ He is a boy sixteen years old ; or per- 
haps we ought to call him a young man. 
But he is not like young men in general.” 

“Well, no matter if he aint. There’s 
almost always something you don’t like 
about boys in general. I aint a bit afraid 
but what I shall find him as near right as 
the rest. If Aunt Margaret says so, we 
shall camp out. You can go, and Clarke 
too, if you aint afraid of wearing old 
clothes. I’ve got some all ready that Aunt 
Comfort mended for me ; so mother wont 
have any trouble about that.” 

Thus the evening passed in conversation, 
sometimes serious, and sometimes mirthful. 


A HOME VISIT. 


25 


Mason’s voice, as usual, being often heard. 
Soon after the visitors had left, Mrs. Stuart 
and her daughters retired, while the broth- 
ers remained in the sitting-room. Of these, 
the youngest was first to decide that it was 
“ bedtime,” and with some parting word of 
counsel to Clarke said “ Good-night.” 

For once our irrepressible brother is 
right,” was the comment he did not stay to 
hear. u He always speaks the truth, but 
it would sometimes be better if he would 
leave it unspoken. This time I am obliged 
to him for introducing the subject uppermost 
in my mind. I don’t think it is best for me 
to go on with my studies in school much 
longer. As Mason says, I don’t care enough 
about study, to have it pay for anybody to 
make a great sacrifice to send me through 
college. If every thing had gone on as w< 
expected, I shouldn’t have thought mucl 
about it. But you see there was a change 


26 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

and with it a new departure. I have as 
good a business education as I shall get from 
books ; and, in plain English, I think it is 
time for me to go to work. What do you 
think about it? What shall I do? As 
Mason would say, 4 You’ve done pretty well 
yourself : now give a fellow some good 
advice.’ ” 

“ What do you wish to do ? What are 
3^ou willing to do constantly and faithfully, 
giving to it your best energies ? ” 

“ Those questions sound very much like 
some of Aunt Margaret’s. I’d rather she 
would ask them than you ; but I’m not 
going to find fault. If you could give up 
the prospect of being a great scholar when 
70U really cared about it, you’ve a right to 
;ay what you’ve a mind to to me, especially 
since I asked you. But, to answer your 
questions, I don’t know what I do want to 
do. One thing, though : when I’ve made up 


A HOME VISIT . 


27 


my mind, and taken the work in hand, I’ll 
do it well. Isn’t there a place for me at 
Austenville ?*” 

“ None you could fill with advantage to 
yourself or others. Neither do I think you 
would be contented to stay there, except fov 
a few weeks.” 

“ Why not ? You have always repre- 
sented it as a delightful place.” 

“ So it is, but you would soon tire of it. 
I am sure I should, unless I had an absorb- 
ing interest in the mill, and a positive 
responsibility which I could not delegate 
to another.” 

“ I might sell the goods.” 

“You might ; but a well-established house 
can sell them better than you could. If you 
wished to enter such a house as clerk, it 
might not be a bad idea ; but you will do 
well to give the subject careful considera- 
tion. There is no necessity for making a 


28 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

hasty decision. Finish your course in the 
seminary, and then see what is best. When 
you have spent two months in Austenville, 
you can judge whether you would wish to 
cast in your lot with the company there. 
You are disappointed/’ remarked the elder 
brother after a short silence. 

“ Perhaps I am. We all look to Austen- 
ville as a sort of Eldorado. I’m not such a 
downright reliable fellow as you are, any 
way. It’s a good thing for me that I have 
not a gold spoon in my mouth.” 

“ No better for you than for me. We 
both of us needed something to rouse our 
ambition in a new direction. I shall never 
go back to my books, and now this gives me 
no unhappiness.” 

“It is too bad that you were obliged to 
leave them when you were such a tiptop 
scholar ; but of course you’ll do a good deal 
more hard studying.” 


A HOME VISIT. 


29 


« j i 10 pe to. I have learned how to study , 
and, that once learned, there is no limit to 
one’s x^ogress. I hope to have more leisure 
some time, but even in that I may be disap- 
pointed. As for yourself, do the best you can 
for the next three months ; and, when you 
have graduated with honor, then think of busi- 
ness. Mason says you have improved, as well 
as I ; and he is authority in such matters.” 

« So he is. But what will he be when he 
grows up ? ” 

“ A man of whom we shall have no rea- 
son to be ashamed. It is safe to predict 
that, and also that he will occasionally re- 
mind us that we are not faultless. I used to 
consider him a disturbing influence in the 
family, but I am convinced that he is just 
the influence we need. If he takes us down 
from some high position not over gently, he 
softens the fall with a cushion of good 
nature, so that we cannot be angry. 



CHAPTER II. 


A GLAD WELCOME. 

R. FIELDING did not call upon his 
nephew. The latter, however, saw 
him at his place of business, and con- 
strained him to something like courtesy. 

“ You’ve sunk a good deal of money at 
Austenville,” he remarked at length. 

“We are floating considerable money 
there,” was the reply. 

“ So much that, if you fail, your mother 


will be a poor woman.” 

“ So much that, if we succeed, she may 
be a wealthy woman. That is the view I 
(.hoose to take. It is best to look on the 
bright side.” 


so 


A GLAD WELCOME. 


31 


“ That is some of Margaret’s philosophy ; 
but men who understand business know that 
the bright side will take care of itself. It 
is the dark side that needs attention. I 
never heard of any thing more absurd than 
this last project of Margaret’s.” 

“It does not seem absurd to her, and 
every one must admit that she has a way 
of carrying out her projects very success- 
fully. Come up to Austenville, and see for 
yourself what a beginning we have made.” 

“ I have no time to spend in travelling 
about the country,” was the ungracious re- 
sponse to this invitation; following which 
came the. question, — 

“ When do you expect to enter college ? ” 
“ Never,” replied Edward Stuart. “ I 
think I have found my vocation elsewhere.” 

“ Then you are mistaken. There was just 
one chance for you to do something in the 
world, and that was as a scholar.” 


32 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ I am sure I could have been a fine 
scholar, and ten years will decide whether 
that was my only chance. Good-morning.” 

His “ good-morning ” was as bland when 
he left the counting-room, as when he 
entered it ; and yet the young man did not 
care to prolong this interview. Mr. Fielding 
was in his most unreasonable mood ; and 
the fact that only that morning he had been 
reminded of his mistake in selling his wife’s 
share of the old mill, served to increase the 
displeasure with which he regarded the 
present owners. 

Mrs. Fielding greeted Edward cordially, 
notwithstanding her whole appearance ex- 
pressed weariness and despondency. She 
was interested to hear of Margaret’s happi- 
ness, and glad to know that there was a 
prospect of good fortune in store for her 
sisters. She did not say that she wished 
she might share their fortune, but she did 


A GLAD WELCOME . 


33 


say that she was inclined to wish with Sadie, 
that “a little bit of Austenville was her 
very own.” 

“ I don’t see how Margaret can do justice 
to two homes. She has always superin- 
tended every thing on the old place since 
father died.” 

“ And she will continue to do so. She is 
3oming here in a few weeks,” responded her 
aephew, quite ignoring the characteristic 
sigh which had supplemented the words 
spoken so sadly. 

“I am glad she has so much strength. 
For my part, it is impossible for me to un- 
derstand such tireless energy. She does 
every thing easy too. When she is with 
you young people, she is as young as the 
youngest. I don’t know as she will ever 
grow old.” 

“She never will in the way most people 
grow old. But you ought to see her in 


34 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

Austenville to see her at her best. There’s 
not one on the place but looks upon her 
with something like worship, and knows her 
for a friend. She has devised liberal things 
for our people, and they appreciate her. But 
you must come and see for yourself.” 

To this invitation Mrs. Fielding did not 
reply as her husband had done. “ I shall 
come if I can ; but I shall allow nothing to 
prevent the children going if Margaret 
wishes to see them,” she said decidedly. 

Edward Stuart’s visit at home was neces- 
sarily short, and yet he parted from his 
family cheerfully. He was anxious to be at 
his work ; and when Mr. Bumstead met him 
at the railway station with the hearty grip 
of a toil-hardened hand, and a welcome 
which owed nothing of its cordiality to con- 
ventional etiquette, he forgot that he had 
ever looked back longingly to other days. 

“ Sure, I’m as glad to see you, as I be to 


A GLAD WELCOME . 


35 


see the sun after a three-da ys’ storm in win- 
ter. And didn’t I tell you the goods were 
all right ? ” 

This question, emphasized with the crack 
of a whip, was a reply to itself. Neverthe- 
less, Avhen the rattling of wheels was lost in 
the oozy mud, the younger man answered, 
u You told me so, and I believed you. But 
I was glad to have your opinion indorsed at 
headquarters.” 

“ You may well be that. There’s where 
the money’s coming from, and we want 
money. Every thing’s right. Elliot’s done 
your part well.” 

“I knew he would. And Aunt Mar- 
garet ? ” 

“ Just the same. She read your letter to 
me, and I told the hands. You ought to 
have seen them then, when they threw up 
their caps, and gave a grand hurrah. I told 
Elliot yesterday I wished there was another 


ftf TBfNOC UOM VON 4 VO UNCOMMON 


.mu . W eve help enough offered to run it, 
and there’s plenty of water. I think, Mr. 
Stuart, we’ll be wanting the second mill 
before many years.” 

“ Perhaps we may, but we must make the 
money to build it first.” 

“ That’ll not take long. We’re just well 
started, and I count the hard part over. 
There’s money in the mill.” 

“ And in the land too. We must get that 
into better condition before we build another 
mill.” 

“ Sure, and you may do that. I’ve noth- 
ing to say against the land. It’s well 
enough. But water’s of more account than 
land when you want to drive shuttles and 
spindles. It’s likely, though, you’ll be want- 
ing a farmhouse.” 

“We shall, unless we can spare a cottage 
for Mr. Gray.” 

“You can’t do that. We’ve nearly all 


A GLAD WELCOME. 


37 


family men, and not enough houses for them 
now, let alone the boarding of the women 
help. You see they’re not liking to be 
crowded. They’re getting new notions, and 
it takes room to be tidy and fine. Mrs. 
Rady spreads her table with a bright cloth 
every evening, an'd sits down like a lady. 
Perhaps you didn’t mind how things was 
working, Mr. Stuart.” 

“ I didn’t mind about such things.” 

“ No more did I, till my wife told me. 
The society meetings and the talking of the 
mistress has done it. It’s not like the old 
country, where you’d put the hands together 
like so many blocks.” 

“ I hope not. I’m glad Mrs. Rady 
spreads her table very nicely every even- 
ing.” 

“ Sure, and she’d have no choice since 
her grandchild is there. Norah Borine is as 
quick to see as a bird, and as quick to do 


38 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

too. She’s a handsome gypsy, as like her 
father in looks as like can be.” 

“ Was he a Frenchman ? ” 

“I’m thinking he was. He was good 
looking, and that was all the good there was 
about him. He was a bold fellow, they say ; 
but Norah’s as shy of strangers as a fawn. 
Jessie Elliot’s trying to make friends with 
her ; but when she’s left alone, with her 
mother and grandmother in the mill, you’ll 
hardly get the door opened. There ! now 
you can catch a glimpse of the old mill. It’s 
the best place in the world to me, and we’ll 
make it the finest. Gatchell told me yester- 
day it seemed as though there’d been a 
miracle worked here since last summer ; and 
I told him ’twas like breathing the breath 
of life into the dry bones of the valley. I 
aint a Bible man, but I’ve heard of some- 
thing like that being done in Bible times. 
Had a strange meeting last Sunday night, 
Mr. Stuart.” 


A GLAD WELCOME . 


39 


“ How was it strange? ” 

44 Well, it was strange; that’s all I can 
tell. Everybody said a verse. Would you 
believe it, Mr. Stuart, I said one myself. 
Harold Dorsey cried, and everybody was all 
melted down some way. The mistress 
talked, and sure I think she’d better be the 
preacher. She’d find a man’s conscience if 
he had one. Elliot’s not the same at all 
these few days, but you’ll see it for yourself. 
I’m talking to you as though you’d been 
away for a year, and it’s only a day more 
than a week. You’ve been missed, Mr. 
Stuart.” 

44 1 am glad of that. It is pleasant to be 
missed when one is away. I knew Aunt 
Margaret would miss me.” 

44 You may well say that. She’s counted 
the days, I’m thinking.” 

It was a happy home-coming. Edwara 
Stuart was greeted warmly by every person 


10 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

whom he met. Hearty congratulations, too, 
were offered. The people of the town felt 
their interests identified in a certain degree 
with the prosperity of the mill, and had 
watched anxiously the progress of events. 
Now, however it might be with others more 
immediately concerned, their anxiety was 
at an end. 

Miss Austen waited upon the piazza, ready 
to welcome her nephew in her own charac- 
teristic way. Mrs. Bumstead, whose good, 
motherly face was fairly radiant, next ap- 
peared ; saying as she extended her hand, 
“I hope you’re glad to be back, Mr. Stu- 
art.” 

“ I am glad, and glad to see you all again,” 
was the quick reply. 

Robert then came forward, his welcome 
beaming from his eyes, while his grand- 
mother returned to the kitchen to complete 
her preparations for supper. This done, the 


A GLAD WELCOME. 


41 


bell rang, and two sat down with grateful 
hearts to partake of a bountiful repast. 

“ It is a pleasure to sit at the table with 
you again,” remarked Edward Stuart. 

“ And a pleasure to have the table here ? ” 
responded his aunt. 

“ Yes, here, of all places in the world. If 
I could go back to my life as it was a year 
ago, I would not. I consider my mother 
better off to-day, than she would be with 
her lost ten thousand dollars well invested, 
and her share of this property running to 
waste.” 

“ I really think she is, Edward ; and I 
count myself a fortunate woman to have so 
much invested here.” 

“ Uncle Fielding would tell us that we are 
building castles in the air. Time will prove 
whether our castles have firm foundations. 
It does not matter to me what Uncle Field- 
ing thinks, but I am sorry for Dick. I 


42 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

always wondered how he could ha\u pa- 
tience with such a father. I had a long talk 
with him while I was at home, and I think 
he feels it ; although he did not say a word 
against his father.” 

“ Of course not. Dick is too noble for 
that, unless the provocation should be very 
great. As he grows older, he will make a 
place for himself in the world. I hope he 
will adopt his grandfather’s profession.” 

“ He talked with me about it, and seemed 
inclined to think favorably of it. Mason 
had stated the case to him, and urged it as a 
matter of duty. But, if he should decide to 
study medicine, he ought to have every pos- 
sible advantage.” 

“ Certainly. He must have every advan- 
tage.” 

“ But Uncle Fielding pleads poverty 
whenever money is wanted. At least, that 
is what Mason says, and our boy is generally 

correct in his statements.” 


A GLAD WELCOME. 


43 


“That is true. He is* correct in state- 
ment, and usually in judgment. I should 
find it hard to have patience with untruthful 
boys. Fortunately, the boys in whom I am 
most interested are to be trusted. Harold 
and Robert are as true as you or Mason.” 

“ I believe they are. Harold has been 
strangely educated. I am more and more 
impressed with that fact. There is a mys- 
tery about his life. We have some marked 
characters among us. What of Elliot ? Mr. 
Bumstead told me that he is not the same as 
usual.” 

“ I have seen but little of him while you 
were away, and then we talked of business. 
But I think his conscience is aroused. 
Judging from what I knew of him as your 
Uncle William’s friend, and what I have 
observed, he has been a man who regarded 
only the present life. When he decided to 
reform his habits, I presume he had no 


44 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

thought of the sins he had committed 
against God ; and I am quite certain that 
but for J essie, and respect for his employers, 
he would never have attended one of our 
sabbath-evening meetings. I know that he 
has been unwilling to have Jessie go to 
church. But yesterday she came in, and told 
me that her father said she should go as 
soon as he could have suitable clothing made 
for her. Harold is going too. He has a 
new suit of clothes, and looked really hand- 
some last sabbath evening.” 

“ Mr. Bumstead says you had a strange 
meeting.” 

“ We had a good meeting, and it was 
strange only because so much feeling was 
manifested.” 

“ You talked, Margie.” 

“ Yes, I did. How could I sit there silent, 
when words sprang to my lips, and there 
were so many to listen, with so few to speak ? 


A GLAD WELCOME . 


45 


The time has come when no one can main- 
tain neutral ground here. Did Mr. Bum- 
stead tell you that he attended church last 
sabbath ? ” 

“ No, he did not,” replied Edward Stuart, 
glad to be spared the necessity of responding 
to a remark which reminded him of his own 
duty. “ I wouldn’t have believed he could 
be persuaded to go ; but perhaps he thought 
it necessary in order to take care of the 
horses.” 

“ That was his excuse. But I believe he 
will go again ; and, when the spring opens, I 
shall be disappointed if our people do not 
generally attend church.” 



CHAPTER III. 

GLEANINGS. 

R. ELLIOT was standng in the door 
of his cottage, when, seeing Edward 
Stuart coming towards him, he went 
out, and walked to the gate where they 
met. 

“ Glad to see you,” was their mutual 
greeting ; after which, questions and answers 
followed each other in quick succession. 

“ Where you have been, I suppose the 
season is further advanced than it is here,” 
at length said the elder man. 

“ So much that the difference is quite 
perceptible. There is less mud, and no snow 



46 



GLEANINGS . 


47 


at all. Coming from the station, I saw some 
patches of snow in sheltered places.” 

44 And you will see more before summer. 
If I am not mistaken, we shall have several 
snowstorms yet. Jessie hopes I shall prove 
to be a false prophet, but I think not. She 
is impatient for leafy trees and fragrant 
flowers. It’s about the right time now to 
start sugar-making. There’s a fine grove of 
sugar-maples on the hill, about half a mile 
from Mr. Peavy’s.” 

44 Does it belong to this estate ? ” 

44 Yes. That’s what Mr. Peavy told 
Harold. He says the trees are large enough 
to tap. I suppose you don’t know much 
about making sugar.” 

44 It would be nearer the truth, to say that 
I know nothing about it. Neither does 
Aunt Margaret; and, for one, I had not 
thought of it.” 

“Well, perhaps you’ll think of it now, 


48 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

and, if you want to try it, Harold and T could 
be spared to do the work. There’ll be some 
expense in buying buckets and pans, but it 
will only be for once.” 

44 Will it pay, Mr. Elliot ? ” 

44 Most people think it pays. Many farm- 
ers never buy any sugar, except a few 
pounds of loaf, and some not even this. 
They depend upon what they make, and 
would be obliged to go without entirely if 
they did not make it. When the sap is 
running, there’s not much work that can be 
done on a farm ; and when the conveniences 
are once ready, there’s not much further 
expense. In some places, it is quite a source 
of income. If it is made nice, and put up 
in an attractive way, maple sugar brings a 
good price.” 

44 1 know it does. At home, we have 
always considered it a luxury. Perhaps you 
had better calculate how much of an outlay 


GLEANINGS . 


49 




would be required to begin with ; and I 
will talk with Aunt Margaret about it. If 
she thinks favorably of the plan, we will set 
to work. Now I must go in and see Jessie. 
1 have brought a book for her.” 

“ She will be glad to see you with or 
without a book. You are always welcome, 
and a book is always welcome.” 

As the visitor entered, Jessie sprang from 
her seat, her face all aglow with the pleasure 
she had no thought of concealing. 

“ Did you miss me?” asked Edward 
Stuart. 

“ Yes, sir, every day,” she replied frankly. 
“ You’ve been gone eight days.” 

“ Yes ; and now I have come back to my 
work. What have you been doing?” 

“ Not much, only in the house.” 

“ But here is some evergreen. You didn’t 
find that in the house.” 

“ No, sir : Harold told me where that was, 


4 


50 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 


under the snow, just in the edge of the woods. 
There was a great bed of it in a shady place, 
where the sun couldn’t reach it. That’s 
what kept it so green. But it don’t grow so 
thick; I twisted the vines together so to 
make it heavy, and I found some moss to 
mix with it. That makes two colors. Don’t 
you think it looks prettier ? ” 

“ I think it does.” 

“ And I found some ferns under the snow 
too. See, they are just as green as they are 
in summer ; please, do you know their 
name ? They aint like the brakes you see 
growing almost everywhere in summer.” 

“ No, they are not,” answered the young 
man, stooping to examine them mare closely. 
“ I don’t know the name of the fern, 
although I think I must have seen it be- 
fore.” 

“ I never saw it till yesterday,” responded 
Jessie, passing her hand lightly over the 


GLEANINGS . 


51 


fronds with a caressing motion. “ It grows 
just as it lays now, the stems all laid down 
flat on the ground. I wish Miss Greenleaf 
was here. I guess she could tell. O Mr. 
Stuart ! I wish you’d have her to keep school 
here.” 

“ That is a wish I hear often repeated,” 
now said Mr. Elliot. “ I know nothing of 
Miss Greenleaf, except what Jessie has told 
me. But it must be that she is more than an 
ordinary teacher; and the children about 
here need a good school.” 

“ They do ; and, as the first step towards 
that, we need a good school-committee. I 
suppose you understand how such business is 
managed in a country town like this.” 

“ It is managed in rather a loose way, gen- 
erally ; but we can control that in this dis- 
trict, if we all act together.” 

“ Then let us do it. You lay the plans, 
and I will help carry them out.” 


52 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ I will do what I can. There will be 
quite a large school, and some scholars who 
need a well-educated teacher.” 

“ They must have such a teacher,” said 
Edward Stuart decidedly. “ Aunt Margaret 
will insist upon that.” 

During this interview, nothing occurred to 
show that Richmond Elliot was in any way 
changed from what he had been ; and his 
companion left him, quite forgetting the re- 
mark made by Mr. Bumstead. There were 
others to be seen, so that the twilight had 
waned before Miss Austen heard the ringing 
footfall of her nephew, as he came up the 
avenue. 

Scarcety had he opened the door of the 
sitting-room, when he began to speak of 
what had been said in regard to sugar-mak- 
ing ; and, as a result of the discussion which 
followed, a rude shanty was constructed, and 
all necessary preparations made for improv- 


GLEANINGS. 


53 


in g the season. Mr. Elliot, who seemed to 
have a general knowledge of all useful labor, 
was upon the ground with his chosen assist- 
ant, doing whatever required to be done. 
Limited as to the expense incurred, he sur- 
prised Mr. Stuart by expending so little of 
the amount placed at his disposal. 

Meanwhile, the machinery of the mill 
moved with clock-like regularity. There was 
no lack of driving force or skilled opera- 
tives. 

The latter might not have been above the 
average of men and women in their posi- 
tion when first they came to Austenville; 
but, in the few weeks which had intervened 
since then, thought and feeling had been 
strangely quickened. Something of this 
was due to the fact that they were engaged 
in a new enterprise, depending in a measure 
upon themselves for success ; yet other influ- 
ences, more potent than this, were asserting 


54 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

their sway. The society meetings, ridiculed 
though they had been by some who pre- 
ferred the fumes of rum and tobacco to the 
fragrance of flowers, had well begun the 
work they were intended to perform. Stolid 
faces brightened when some phenomenon of 
nature, which had never before received 
attention, was invested with its full dignity. 
Dull, half-closed eyes were opened wide to 
see some beauty but just revealed to their 
wondering gaze. 

In twigs of hemlock, spruce, and pine, 
fringing a plain mirror, few would have 
recognized the expression of some undevel- 
oped, yet positive taste ; but Miss Austen, 
quick to read where others saw no trace of 
written language, judged the character of 
Norah Borine from the careful arrangement 
of such bits of green. She had seen Norah 
enter the house ; and, passing soon after, 
paused involuntarily as the figure .of the 


GLEANINGS. 


55 


child arrested her attention. A window was 
open directly opposite the little mirror ; and 
so absorbed was Norah in her work, that she 
might not have observed the presence of the 
lady, had not Jessie Elliot surprised her by 
a joyful exclamation. 

Then a dark gypsy face confronted the 
two, as with a bound the young girl sprang 
to the floor. For an instant, a pair of black 
eyes flashed defiantly, when the long lashes 
drooped over them, hiding the tears which 
trembled in their depths. 

“ O Norah, don’t feel bad! ” now cried Jes- 
sie. “ Please don’t. I was coming to see you ; 
and, when I turned the corner, I was so glad 
to see Miss Austen, I called right out. That’s 
all. Have you been up to the woods ? ” 

“I only went a little ways,” was mur- 
mured in reply to f his question. 

“ Well, wont you go with me ? I want to 
go and see what I can find. There’s a little 


5G THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

bit of a brook where there’s some nice green 
moss, and I want to get some of it. Harold 
told father to tell me about it. Wont you 
go too ? and, please, wont you let us come 
in?” 

Despite her shyness, there was nothing 
awkward in the manners of Norah Borine. 
Thus entreated, she opened the door to 
admit her visitors, and gave her hand to 
Miss Austen with timid grace. 

“ I am sorry I have troubled you ; but I 
was so much pleased to see you decorating 
your room, that I forgot I had no right to 
watch you. Will you pardon me ? ” 

“ Why, yes, ma’am. It wa’n’t any hurt, 
only I thought I was all alone,” replied the 
child hesitatingly to this apology. “ I wanted 
something like Jessie, but I couldn’t find 
it.” 

“ Then you have been to J essie’s cot- 
tage?” 


GLEANINGS. 


57 


“ Yes, ma’am, once.” 

“ An I I want you to come a great many 
times,” said Jessie. “ Go with me now, and 
we’ll get some evergreen. Perhaps we shall 
find something else that’s pretty too.” 

“ I am sure you would have a good time 
with J essie, and I’ll not stay to keep you 
from going,” added Miss Austen. “ Good- 
by.” 

“ Oh, my ! didn’t she frighten me ? ” whis- 
pered Norah, when she could venture to 
speak without danger of being overheard. 

“ You wont be frightened at her when 
you’ve been here a little while,” was the re- 
assuring reply. “ She’s just as good as she 
can be, and she knows almost every thing.” 

“ What every thing ? ” 

“ Oh ! every thing about trees, and flowers, 
and birds, and brooks, and rivers, and stars, 
and lots of other things.” 

“ How did she ever find out ? ” 


58 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON ’ 

“ I don’t know, only I suppose she begun 
when she was little, and kept right on learn- 
ing all the time. That’s the way folks do. 
Haint you begun ? ” 

4 * I guess not much. I can read and spell, 
and I know the multiplication-table. Is that 
beginning ? ” 

“ Yes, it’s beginning real well. But come. 
I shant have time to go to the woods this 
afternoon, unless we start pretty soon. I 
must be home time enough to get a good 
supper for father. When he stays away all 
day, I always mean to have something nice 
for his supper.” 

“ Where is he ? ” 

“ Making sugar on the hill, and he says I 
may go over with him some time. Perhaps 
you can go too. Shouldn’t you like to ? ” 

u He’d be there, wouldn’t he ? ” 

“ Yes, and Harold too. I shouldn’t want 
to go unless they were. Now let’s start 


GLEANINGS. 


59 


You take a basket to put things in. I always 
do, so I can bring home all I want to.” 

During their walk, Norah did not talk 
much, but Jessie was fully equal to the occa- 
sion ; and, when they reached the woods, 
there was no need of further effort on their 
part. Here was the brook, rippling over 
mossy stones and springing sedges, gleaming 
like silver wherever the sunlight flecked its 
surface ; and this furnished an interesting 
theme of conversation. 

“ There’ll be lots of pretty things growing 
here by and by,” remarked Jessie, after 
taking a survey of the ground. 

“ Yes,” answered Norah, and then pro- 
ceeded to make a closer investigation for 
herself. “ See here”’ she exclaimed, some 
time later. “ Aint these buds that’ll make 
flowers ? They’re close down to the ground, 
and they was all covered with dead leaves. 
And here are some leaves with awful long 
stems that I guess belong to them ” 


60 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ Oh, I know what you’ve found. It’s 
liverwort. I forgot to look for it so soon. 
I’m so glad ! That’s just what we want to 
put with our green moss. If we take it up 
with some of the roots, and keep it wet all 
the time, it wont know but what it’s stay- 
ing right here in the woods.” 

“ Why ! does it know any thing at all ? ” 
asked Norah with a look of surprise. 

“ No, I don’t suppose it does, only that’s a 
way I have of talking,” was the reply. 
“ There’s lots of liverwort here, but we 
wont take any more than we want now. 
We can come again, and see how fast it 
grows. There’s another name for it besides 
liverwort. Look at the leaves, and see how 
different the two sides are. I’ve heard 
somebody call it mouse-ear ; and one lobe of 
the leaf taken all by itself does look some 
like a mouse’s ear. You see there’s three 
parts to the leaf. Miss Greenleaf called 


GLEANINGS . 


61 


them lobes. We’re going to have more to 
carry home than I expected. There’ll be 
queer little things come up in the moss. 
Miss Greenleaf used to have a tray made of 
zinc, that she kept moss in all winter ; and 
she let every thing grow that come up. If 
she was only here, she’d tell us about 
things.” 

“ Does she know about every thing the 
same as Miss Austen does ? ” 

This question puzzled J essie. She knew 
there was a vast difference between the two, 
whom she regarded with equal admiration. 
One possessed the culture which wealth 
could easily command ; while the other, 
despite her poverty, had gained much of the 
same culture. One had gathered heavy 
sheaves of golden grain ; yet the other, 
gleaning in the same exhaustless fields, had 
brought away grain no less golden. They 
were unlike, but not thus did they seem to 
the child. 


62 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ I can’t tell which knows the most,” she 
said deliberately. “ Miss Austen knows 
most about some things, and Miss Greenleaf 
knows most about others. I guess Miss 
Austen has always lived in a grand house, 
with books and pictures all round her ; but 
Miss Greenleaf lives in a little bit of a cot- 
tage, no larger than ours ; and she has to 
earn all the money she has. She has to take 
care of her mother too ; and she wears ever 
so old dresses, only they’re just as clean and 
pretty as can be. There are vines all over 
her house, and flowers growing all round it 
in summer ; and there’s a great rock back of 
it covered with a grape-vine.” 

“ How did she get so many things if she’s 
poor?” 

“Why, she just gets them herself. She 
plants the flower seeds, and they come up 
and grow. She told me all about the grape- 
vine. She found it in the woods, and took it 


GLEANINGS . 


63 


home, and planted it beside the rock. It 
didn’t take money to do it. She had lots of 
pictures ; but she made the frames of moss 
and acorns and beech-nuts and shells, and 
almost every thing you can think of. I used 
to think, if I ever had a house, I’d make it 
look just like hers.” 

“ And does it ? ” asked Norah. 

“ Oh, no ! I haven’t had time to get half 
as many things as she has ; but I’ve begun, 
and I mean to keep on. You’ve begun too, 
and that’s what made Miss Austen stop to 
look at you when you were fixing your glass. 
I guess she was thinking you was just such 
a little girl as she liked.” 

“ Do you suppose she did ? ” 

“ Yes, I most know it. Now you’ll put 
the liverwort in a saucer, and pretty soon 
you’ll have some flowers ; but we must get 
the evergreen next. The snow’s all gone off 
from it, but it’s real green.” 


64 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

A week’s companionship within doors 
would not have drawn these children so 
closely together, as did the hour spent 
beneath the arching trees, where Nature in- 
vited to confidence by a revelation of her 
own wondrous beauties. Whatever there 
had been of reserve on the part of Norah 
Borine vanished under the genial influences 
which surrounded her. She asked questions 
rapidly, peering into sheltered nooks, and 
upturning the wet brown leaves which con- 
cealed some germ of fern or shrub. Her 
enthusiasm was fully aroused, and with her 
treasures she started homeward, resolved to 
make the most of what she possessed. 




CHAPTER IV. 

THE SUGAR-CAMP. 

HERE had been an abundant flow of 
sap thoughout the day, and Mr. Elliot 
was in haste for his supper, that he 
might return to the sugar-camp, where he 
proposed to spend the night ; but he was 
never too much pressed for time to sympa- 
thize with his daughter in her plans and 
pleasures. The clusters of buds, curled so 
closely to the mat of fibrous roots, that the 
casual observer would have failed to see 
them, received from him all proper attention. 

“Did you ever see the flowers?” asked 
Jessie. 

s 



u 


66 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON 

“ I don’t know,” he replied. 44 Perhaps I 
have trodden upon them a hundred times.” 

“Why, father, how could you?” was 
responded in a grieved tone. 

“ Just as you run over the dandelions and 
buttercups and clovers. You don’t mind 
any thing about them.” 

“ I know it; but you see they’re all round 
everywhere ; and then I don’t step on them 
when they first come. I always pick the 
first white clovers and buttercups. They’re 
real pretty. But there aint so many liver- 
worts ; and, besides, the flowers are so small, 
it seems more as though you ought to be 
careful of them. When you come home, 
you’ll see how nice I’ll have them fixed. I 
wish I had a little zinc tray like Miss Green- 
leaf s. She made it out of a piece of old 
zinc somebody gave her. Oh, dear ! I wish 
I knew how to do every thing the same as 
she does.” 


THE SUGAR-CAMP . 


67 


“You can learn, my child.” 
u Perhaps I can,'’ she replied cheerfully ; 
and, turning from her spoils of the wood, 
she seated herself at the table. 

After her father left her, she did not mind 
being alone. She knew she had nothing to 
fear; and, if she waked, the moonlight 
streamed in through the narrow window, 
like the re-assuring smile of a friend. 

A rare night it was to spend in the open 
air. Richmond Elliot had often looked up 
to the stars from a couch upon the ground, 
but there had been no night to him like this. 
He was isolated from the world. Above 
and around him, there was only the presence 
of an infinite God. The breeze which 
stirred the tree-tops was like an accusing 
voice whispering of unrepented sins ; and 
the soft, faint murmur, heard even when the 
stillness of a forest is most profound, echoed 
these accusings. 


68 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

He was alone ; and yet there was no 
escape from One who knew his inmost 
thoughts. He performed his work mechani- 
cally. He gazed into the glowing fire, and 
saw it not. He could not sleep. Restlessly 
he paced to and fro, unheeding the obstacles 
in his path. There was a fearful struggle in 
his breast. He no longer doubted the exist- 
ence of a supreme Being, to whom he 
must give account of his wasted life. He 
believed, and therefore trembled. As the 
morning dawned, he addressed himself to 
the task of controlling and concealing his 
emotions. He was not ready to confess him- 
self a sinner against the laws of God. 

Harold Dorsey came early to relieve him 
of his watch ; and looking around, said, 
“ Why, Mr. Elliot, didn’t you lay down all 
last night ? ” 

“ No, I didn’t care to lie down,” was the 
reply. 


TEE SUGAR-CAMP. 


69 


“ Then you must be very tired.” 

“ I am not at all tired. The night seemed 

0 & 

short ; ” and in truth it had so seemed to the 
speaker. He had been engrossed in thought, 
and taken no note of time. “ Jessie is com- 
ing up by and by, to bring my breakfast,” 
he hastened to add. “ I told her she might 
come as soon after sunrise as she could get 
ready. I have done a good night’s work 
in the way of boiling. I hope you have 
rested.” 

u Yes, sir, I always sleep ; but I had a 
strange dream last night. I thought grand- 
sir came and sat down by my bed, and told 
me he made a mistake in the way he 
brought me up. He said I ought to have 
begun to read the Bible as soon as I could 
read at all, and now I must make up for the 
time I’d lost. So this morning, though I 
was in a hurry, I stopped to read a chap- 
ter, and one verse in it was, 4 The trees of 


70 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

the Lord are full of sap ; the cedars of Leb- 
anon which he hath planted.’ There’s a 
good deal in the Bible about the cedars of 
Lebanon. Mr. Peavy told me that the 
preacher, Solomon, knew all about all kinds 
of trees and plants. There’s a verse some- 
where that says he talked about trees, from 
the cedar tree in Lebanon, to the hyssop 
that springs out of the wall ; and about 
beasts and fowl, and creeping things, and 
fishes. How grand it would be to know so 
much ! ” 

“ Yes, it would. But do you suppose any- 
body ever did really know so much? ” 

“ Of course I do. The Bible says so, and 
what the Bible says is true. It’s a strange 
book.” 

“ Is it like what you expected it would 
be? ” asked Mr. Elliot, not so much because 
he cared how it was regarded by his young 
friend, as to prevent the conversation from 

drifting to unwelcome topics. 


THE SUGAR-CAMP. 


71 


“ No, it aint like what I expected. I 
expected it would be all about one thing, 
and it’s about almost ever}^ thing. I won- 
der everybody don’t read it. Do you read 
it, Mr. Elliot ? ” 

Harold Dorsey looked earnestly into the 
face of the man to whom he propounded this 
question, and who replied after some hesita- 
tion, “ No, I don’t read it. It’s a book I 
have never cared to read. But I am glad to 
have you read it, and glad of all the comfort 
it gives you ” 

“ But it’s God’s book, Mr. Elliot, and 
you are one of his children. That’s what 
Miss Austen said in the meeting, and she 
said God loved us. Oh, I was so glad to 
hear that ! I’ve always wanted somebody to 
love me. I don’t know but what grandsir did, 
but it wa’n’tthe same way you love Jessie. 
I wish I belonged to somebody, the same as 
she belongs to you.’' No response being 


72 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

made to this outcry of his heart, Harold said, 
“ These are the Lord’s trees. They are full 
of sap.” 

“ They are full of sap ; and the sap will be 
wasting, unless we take care of it.” 

This was spoken more sharply than Rich- 
mond Elliot was accustomed to speak, but 
the sharpness was not observed. His com- 
panion’s attention was fixed upon the trees, 
now invested with a new beauty because of 
their relation to the great Creator. The 
words, " Are you dreaming ? ” roused the 
latter from his revery, and sent him to his 
work. 

Far off on the mountain-tops the sun was 
shining, while the shadows of night still 
brooded over the lower landscape ; then, as 
the morning advanced, one by one the grand 
old hills were bathed in its splendor, until 
like a flood of glory the light swept adown 
the valley. 


THE SUGAR-CAMP. 


73 


Jessie Elliot looked around her joyously, 
and with reverent heart acknowledged the 
goodness of Him who has made all things 
beautiful in their season. She stopped for a 
moment to speak to Norah Borine, who 
brought forward the miniature garden she 
had arranged from her scant possessions. 

“ It’s just lovely,” was the comment of 
her friend. “ You’ve put the liverwort and 
moss together so they make a picture. It’s 
prettier than my saucer, a good deal. We’ll 
go again some time. I’m going to the sugar 
place, to stay to-day. I wish you were going 
too.” 

“ You’re good to wish so, but I’d rather 
go where there aint anybody. I’ve got to 
do the dishes, and sweep the house, and get 
dinner, and clean up ; and then perhaps I’ll 
go up to the brook alone. I know how to 
look now. I’m glad you learnt me.” 

“And I’m glad you’ve learned,” was 


74 THINGS COMMON AN I) UNCOMMON. 

Jessie’s hearty response as she went forward 
with her well-filled basket. 

She was in haste to reach the maple-grove, 
yet there was much to tempt her to linger 
on the way. Birds were flitting in and out 
among, the trees, chirping merrily, as if in 
anticipation of the bright summer weather. 
Squirrels darted across her path, or whisked 
away from rustic breakfast-rooms in which 
she had surprised them. She stayed her 
steps, wishing she could follow the birds and 
squirrels throughout the day, and learn how 
they employed their time. She wondered 
how life seemed to them, and if indeed they 
could think. But watching and wondering 
would never bring her to her father. 

A glad call announced her arrival, and 
Harold was first to greet her. (i I’m glad 
you’ve come,” he said heartily. “ I’ve some- 
thing to show you.” 

“ What is it ? ” she asked. 


THE SUGAR-CAMP. 


75 


“ A tree covered with the longest moss 1 
ever saw.” 

“ I shall like to see it. But I must get 
breakfast first. Have you roasted the po- 
tatoes ? ” 

“ They’re in the ashes, and the coffee’s 
making. Your father said ’twas most time 
for you to come. I brought some milk to 
put in the coffee, and Mrs. Peavy said she 
wanted you to come there some time to- 
day.” 

“ I’ll try to, but I wish they could come 
up here. I think it’s beautiful to stay in the 
woods. I’m going to see how many different 
kinds of things I can find. Where’s your 
table ? ” 

“ The bench is all the table we have, and 
the stumps are our chairs. You m&y have 
mine. I guess your father’s tired, though 
he says he aint. He didn’t lay down all 
night. What’s the matter with him, Jessie ? ” 


7G THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ I don’t know. I didn’t know any thing 
was the matter with him. Is there ? ” 

“ Perhaps not, only when I can’t sleep 
there’s something the matter with me. But 
there he is coming. He’ll help you about 
getting breakfast. It aint just like cooking 
in the house.” 

“ O father ! I’m so glad,” exclaimed the 
young girl. “ Isn f t it a real happy morn- 
ing?” 

“ It’s a real happy looking child that calls 
me father,” was replied. 

“ And are you real glad to have her cal] 
you father ? ” 

“ Glad ! ” he repeated, looking at her with 
all his heart in his eyes. “I am thankful.” 

“ And I am thankful to call you father,” 
she said, springing to his side. “ I thank 
God every day for having given me such a 
father.” 

Harold stood just outside the shanty, yet 


THE SUGAR-CAMP. 


77 


quite near enough to the occupants to hear 
every word of this short colloquy ; and felt 
himself doubly alone' for the close relation- 
ship which existed between the father and 
child. 

“ Breakfast is ready,” called a musical 
voice not long after, as he was returning 
from higher up on the hill, with two over- 
flowing pails of sap. “ Come, Harold. 
We’ve got a nice breakfast. I made some 
cakes last night, after father came back up 
here, on purpose to surprise him. I made 
some for you too, and I guess you’ll like 
them. Come.” 

Coffee served in tin cups, bread and meat 
eaten from fragrant chips, and the cakes 
which Jessie took daintily from her basket, 
furnished a breakfast which no one need 
despise. To those who shared it, it was 
positively luxurious. 

“ Now you can take your own time to 


78 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

wash the dishes,” said Mr. Elliot to his 
daughter. 

“ There’s not many to wash,” she replied, 
laughing merrily. “ I’ll rinse the cups, and 
burn the plates, and scatter the crumbs for 
the birds oh that mossy knoll. I’ve heard 
some chickadees around here.” 

“ Plenty of them,” responded Harold. 
“ When you’re ready, I want you to go and 
see the old mother tree. It’s most up to the 
top of the hill. It’s so large, and looks so 
grand and old, I call it the mother tree. I 
haint been there this morning. I ought to 
go pretty soon, but I’ll wait for you.” 

He had not long to wait, neither was he 
obliged to moderate his pace to suit his com- 
panion. She was accustomed to rapid walk- 
ing, and while choosing the firmest resting- 
places for her feet, sped rapidly over the 
ground. There had been a light frost during 
the night ; enough to cover with a thin rime 


THE SUGAR-CAMP. 


79 


whatever was exposed to the atmosphere ; 
and now, when touched by the rays of the 
sun, there was a sparkle and glitter, like the 
flashing of myriads of tiny gems. 

The branches of the mother tree were 
covered with usnea barbata , the most beauti- 
ful of our lichens, when seen as it was dis- 
played that morning. The frost-crystals 
were fast dissolving, and yet clinging to 
every fibre and filament of the delicate green 
drapery. Each disk held a pellucid drop, 
filling it to its utmost capacity, and gleaming 
with rainbow tints. The entire growth of 
lichen seemed as instinct with life as the 
fairest flowers, when the dew has touched 
them with its magic brush ; not dry and 
withered and clasping, but soft and fresh, 
outspreading, drooping, or erect, and well 
deserving the admiration lavished upon it. 

“ Why, I never saw any thing like that 
before ! ” cried Jessie with uplifted hands. 


80 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ Never in all my life ! O Harold ! aint it a 
new kind of moss ? ” 

“ No, it’s the same I’ve seen a hundred 
times, and so have you ; only it wa’n’t so long, 
and there wa’n’t so much of it on one tree. 
It’s wet, too, and that’s one thing makes it 
so handsome. When it gets dry, and the 
sun don’t shine on it, it wont look as it 
does now. I saw it yesterday morning, and 
I thought this old mother tree must be the 
handsomest in the world. You can look at 
it as long as you want to. I’m glad you like 
it. I thought you would. When I’ve gath- 
ered the sap round here, I’ll come back, and 
get you all the moss you want.” 

“ Thank you. You’re real good to me, 
Harold.” 

“ Am I ? ” he asked wistfully. “ I want 
to be good, but I don’t know how.” 

“You don’t? Why, it’s just doing right 
all the time, just as well as you can. You 
know how to do that.” 


THE SUGAR-CAMP. 


81 


“ Yes, and I try.” 

“ So do I ; and, when I want not to do 
what I ought to, I ask God to help me. 
You see, sometimes I get most out of 
patience. Don’t you?” 

“ I don’t know as I do. I always did 
what grandsir told me, and he never told me 
but once.” 

This, then, was the secret of Harold 
Dorsey’s patient persistence in whatever he 
attempted. He had not done what he 
would , but what he was required to do. 
He was only beginning to exercise his own 
free will, and judge for himself what was 
best for him to do. 

“ What a queer boy you are ! ” said Jessie. 

“ Yes, I suppose I am,” he answered a 
little sadly. “ I don’t think I’m like any- 
body else.” 

“No, you aint. But you’re good, and 
father says you have remarkable talents. So 


82 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

you needn’t be sorry you aint like anybody 
else. We don’t want you to be.” 

Comforted by this assurance, Harold left 
his companion ; and when he came back, 
after attending to his duties, he found her 
still gazing at the gigantic tree, and still 
finding new beauties to admire. 

“ It seems like a great temple here, where 
people ought to come and worship God,” 
murmured the young girl softly. “ Had 
you thought of that ? ” 

“ No, I hadn’t. But I ought to, because 
these are the Lord’s trees.” 

“ Of course they are. Every thing is the 
Lord’s. You and I and everybody belong 
to him ; so we can’t ever be alone, because 
God is everywhere. He’s right round us 
here in the woods. How strange it is ! ” 

“ Yes. I don’t understand it.” 

“We don’t need to understand it. We’ve 
only just got to believe it. There’s lots and 


THE SUGAR-CAMP . 


83 


lots of things I can’t understand. How 
strange it is, the way things grow ! There’s 
a dry seed put into the ground, and then it 
sprouts, and sends a root down into the 
ground, and a stem into the air. Now, what 
do you suppose makes it do so ? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ I don’t know either ; but I know God 
has something to do with it, and if it wa’n’t 
for him there wouldn’t be any thing in the 
world.” 

“ No, I don’t suppose there would. I’m 
glad I belong to him.” 

“ So am I glad I do, and I care a great 
deal more about all these things because 
they belong to him too. Now I’ll tell you 
what I’m going to do about the moss,” 
added Jessie, as her mind reverted to the 
object which had moved her to this expres- 
sion of devout thought. “ I’ll leave it hero 
till I’m ready to go away. Then I’ll carry 


84 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

home the nicest pieces you can get for me, 
and leave them out doors to-night, so they’ll 
look just as they do here. Wouldn’t that be 
a good way ? ” 

“ Yes ; and, if there aint frost enough on it 
in the morning, you can sprinkle it with 
water. I told Mr. Peavy about it ; and he 
said he used to call such moss maple flowers, 
though he knew ’twas different from com- 
mon flowers.” 

“ Oh ! they aint flowers at all, though I 
aint quite sure what to call it. I mean to 
show it to Miss Austen, and ask her whether 
it’s lichen or moss. Then I’ll tell you.” 

Mr. Elliot watched for the appearance of 
his daughter, rejoicing when he saw her 
coming towards him. Never had she seemed 
so dear to him as then, and never had he 
so much desired her presence. He was 
gloomy; and, but for her, he might have 
grown sullen and morose. He could not 


T JIE SUGAR-CAMP. 


85 


frown when she looked np into his face 
glad'and happy that he was her father. As 
she talked of all which appealed to her love 
of the beautiful, he became interested, and, 
for the time, forgot the guilt of his past life. 
He encouraged her to expect a rich harvest 
from the sodden turf and moss-grown rocks ; 
and, when the sun rose higher in the 
heavens, she commenced her search. She 
knew where to look for the liverwort, of 
which she found a far more luxuriant 
growth than by the little brook. Not far 
away was the mitchella, known to her as 
partridge-vine ; a delicate evergreen, whose 
creeping stems, thickly set with dark, coria- 
ceous leaves and scarlet berries, are always 
a welcome addition to the most elegant, as 
well as the most simple bouquets. Near at 
hand, yet in slightly different soil, was 
another evergreen, — the checkerberry, with 
spicy leaves which seem to have gathered to 


86 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

themselves the most delicate aromas of the 
wild wood. Its fruit too, of coral hue, is 
as beautiful to the eye as it is delicious to 
the taste. 

The supply of berries was less abundant 
than in more favorable seasons, when the 
ground is covered with a mantle of snow 
through all the winter months ; and of these 
the birds had taken their full share ; yet 
Jessie Elliot found enough to serve her 
purpose. Huge clusters of lichen were torn 
from the mother tree, and, when she could 
carry no more, she reluctantly bade adieu to 
the hillside grove. 




CHAPTER Y. 

OLD AND YOUNG. 

^jlELL, I never!” exclaimed Mrs. Peavy. 
rill u What a girl you be for getting every 
thing that grows in the woods ! I 
used to like to go into the woods when I 
was a little girl ; but I didn’t get a chance 
very often, unless mother wanted some roots 
for beer or medicine. I used to look at the 
flowers and trees, but I didn’t think so much 
of them as you do.” 

“ What did you get for beer?” asked 
Jessie. 

“Well, we got a good many things. I 
used to make it every year till lately ; and 

87 


88 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

now I do sometimes, though Mr. Peavy don’t 
care so much about it as he used to. I 
always made what I called spring beer at 
sugar-time.” 

u Why, how could you tell where to find 
the roots before the leaves came up? ” 

“We couldn’t. We calculated to get our 
roots in the fall, and have them all ready. 
You see, in old times, folks didn’t have tea 
and coffee as common as they do now. Any 
way, country folks didn’t ; and so they con- 
trived to make drinks out of what grew 
right round them, and didn’t cost any thing. 
I’ll tell you how my mother used to make 
beer in the spring, if you want me to.” 

“ I do, Mrs. Peavy. I always like to hear 
about such things.” 

This was just the reply the good woman 
expected, and she proceeded with her de- 
scription: “Well, she’d take some maple 
sap, if there was plenty of it, and put it 


OLD AND YOUNG. 


89 


over the fire in a big brass kettle. Then 
she’d put in dried pumpkin, and sweet apple 
parings, and the different kinds of roots we 
happened to have in the house. She’d burn 
two or three ears of corn till they was pretty 
black, and put them in, and some hops. 
Then she’d keep it biling till the strength 
was all biled out of every thing, and then 
strain it off, and put in some emptyings to 
make it work. That was the way she did 
with maple sap, and pretty much the same 
with birch sap ; only, if you wanted it much 
sweet, you needed to bile it down more.” 

“ Birch sap ! Why, Mrs. Peavy, what do 
you mean? ” 

“ I mean that we made beer of birch sap 
after the maple sap had done running. You 
knew there was sap in birch trees, didn’t 
you?” 

“ Yes, ma’am. There’s sap in all trees, else 
they couldn’t grow, but all kinds aint fit to 

drink.” 


90 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

u No ; but the 1)1 ack birch is a real spicy 
tree all through ; and seems as though ’twas 
fuller of sap than any other. There used to 
be a big one grow on a bank not fur from 
our house, that father tapped every spring. 
We always made one cask of beer from it, 
and we thought ’twas the best flavored of 
all Wo used to bile up the little twigs 
•co ; md, — there, Jessie, ’taint no use to tell 
my more ; but there’s wholesome things 
growing all through the woods. I knew 
what they was by sight; and most all of 
them had some kind of a name, but likely 
they wa’n’t book-names. I’ve heard there 
was books all about trees and flowers and 
plants.” 

44 Yes, Mrs. Peavy, there is ; and I want 
to learn what’s in the books.” 

44 So I would, child. But if I couldn’t do 
but one, seems as though I should rather go 
all round, and see the things growing, than 
to read about them in books.” 


OLD AND YOUNG . 


91 


“ So should I ; but, you see, I want to do 
both.” 

“ Well, now, it’s clever to see such a 
bright young face,” said the old man, as he 
came into the kitchen. “ I knew you wae 
sent for, but I didn’t know but something’d 
keep you from coming. It’s a fine place 
where your father’s making sugar. When I 
wa’n’t no older than you be, I never got tired 
watching the sap run.” 

U I didn’t get tired,” responded Jessie. 
“ I wanted to go home in season to get 
father’s supper, and Harold said I was to 
come here.” 

“ I wanted you to come,” responded her 
hostess. “ I’ve got some flower-roots I want 
to give you. Five or six years ago I see a 
flower that I thought was mighty handsome, 
and somebody give me a root, and told me 
how to take care of it ; and it’s kept gaining 
ever since. The roots look like onions, and 


92 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

there’s another name for them besides roots, 
but I’ve forgot what ’tis.” 

“Is it bulbs?” 

“Yes, that’s it ; and I want you to have 
some of them, so you can set them out in a 
box, and get them started in good season. 
That’s the way I do, and I always have good 
luck ; but folks round here that I’ve give 
them to don’t seem to.” 

The precious bulbs were brought forward ; 
and soon after Jessie started on her home- 
ward walk, with the lichen trailing over her 
shoulders, and her basket crowded with 
vines and mosses. Coming out from the 
woods, she saw Norah Borine a little in 
advance, and called to her. 

Her friend turned with the exclamation, 
“ See what I’ve found ! I’ve so much like 
what I had yesterday, and other things too. 
I didn’t know such things grew. What 
makes them ? ” 


OLD AND YOU NO, 


93 


God makes them.” 

“ Does he ? Then why don’t everybody 
look? Why didn’t I know? Mother never 
told me. Perhaps it’s because she has to 
work every day. I don’t mean to work the 
way she does. I don’t like the looms and 
frames, and the dirty smell. I’d rather go 
in the woods, and find things.” 

“ But somebody must work,” responded 
Jessie. “ Somebody must earn money.” 

“ Yes, I know ; but mightn’t there be 
other ways ? You said Miss Greenleaf 
earned money. She don’t do it in a mill, 
does she ? ” 

“ No, she don’t. She teaches school, and 
sews, and I guess she makes pictures to sell. 
She don’t paint them same as other folks 
do. She makes them out of leaves, and 
moss, and all kinds of little bits. I aint sure 
about her selling them, and I didn’t used 
to think she did; but lately I’ve thought 


94 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

more how she earns money, and I guess she 
does. She hadn’t made a great many when 
I came away.” 

“ Why can’t we make them ? ” 

“ Perhaps you can, but I shouldn’t know 
how without having her tell me. I want 
her to come and keep our school this sum- 
mer, and I most believe she will.” 

“ I wish she would. You tell Miss Aus- 
ten. Grandmother says Miss Austen can do 
any thing she wants to. Everybody does 
what she says.” 

“ I know they do, and she’s so good every- 
body ought to. Don’t you like her ? ” 

“ I don’t know yet. Grandmother and 
mother do.” 

“ But they don’t go to meeting Sunday 
evenings, and she wants everybody to go. 
Why don’t they, Norah? ” 

“ Because,” and the speaker looked angrily 
at her companion. “ Because it aint the way 


OLD AND YOUNG. 


95 


for us,” she continued. “We are Catholics. 
Didn’t you know it ? ” 

“ I don’t know what you mean,” was re- 
sponded. 

“Jessie Elliot, be you telling me the 
truth?” 

“ I always tell the truth, Norah. I’m 
sorry if I’ve said any thing to make you 
feel bad. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know 
what Catholic is, but I hope it’s something 
good. Good-by.” 

The non-attendance of Mrs. Rady, Mrs. 
Borine, and Norah, upon the sabbath even- 
ing meetings, had troubled Jessie ; yet this 
was the first time she had ventured to speak 
of it. She resolved now to appeal to her 
father ; and, when he came, she asked almost 
immediately, “ What is it to be a Catholic? ” 
adding, “ Norah says she is a Catholic.” 

“ Of course she is, or her mother and 
grandmother are, and I suppose that amounts 


96 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

to the same thing. She would be likely to 
think as they do.” 

“ But what is it, father? It’s different 
from what Miss Austen is, aint it ? ” 

“Very different, Jessie. Miss Austen 
believes in your Bible, and confesses her 
sins to God ; but most Catholics know very 
little about the Bible. They confess their 
sins to the priest, who gives them absolution 
upon certain conditions. Sometimes they 
are obliged to perform severe penances in 
order to obtain forgiveness, and always they 
must pay money. I can’t explain it all to 
you now, because I must have my supper, 
and go back. I don’t wish to leave Harold 
alone. Perhaps Norah will tell you some 
time what she has been taught to believe ; 
and, if you ask her, perhaps she will go to 
meeting with you Sunday evening.” 

“Wont you go too, father?” 

“ I can’t tell till the time comes. I’m not 


OLD AND YOUNG. 


97 


willing to let the sap waste because it’s Sun- 
day, though Miss Austen thinks it would be 
as well. Mr. Gleason says there’ll be a 
change of weather before the week’s out, 
and I’m looking for more snow.” 

Miss Austen had questioned whether it 
was right that the fire should be kept burn- 
ing in the sugar camp throughout the sab- 
bath, yet had finally yielded to the represen- 
tations of necessity, upon condition that no 
work should be done which could be consist- 
ently avoided. This condition had been 
faithfully observed, so that a solemn stillness 
brooded over the spot, making it a fitting 
place for communion with God. The hour 
spent where Christians talked of the marvel- 
lous goodness of God, which had crowned 
their lives, could not have been more im- 
pressive to Richmond Elliot, than was the 
same hour, spent in watching the glowing 
embers, and seeing in their midst, as it were, 


7 


( J8 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

a hand writing the accusations which must 
forever stand against him. He knew there 
were those who would remember him in 
their prayers, and he felt the need of such 
remembrance. 

His little daughter had thought lovingly 
of him in his loneliness, but she knew noth- 
ing of the struggle going on in his mind. 
Something she saw unlike his former self, 
yet little dreamed its cause. While with 
him in the grove all this was forgotten, and 
when at home she was too much occupied 
with other interests to give it a thought. 

“ I hope Miss Austen or Mrs. Bumstead 
will come to see me this evening,” she said, 
as her father bade her good-by, and then she 
busied herself in arranging miniature gar- 
dens, smiling at the result of her efforts. 
So absorbed was she in her work that the 
door of the cottage was opened before she 
observed that any one was approaching, and, 


OLD AND YOUNG. 


99 


turning, she saw the very face she most 
wished to see. “ Oh, I am so glad! ’’she 
exclaimed. 

“ I should know by your looks that you 
are glad,” said Margaret Austen. 

“I couldn’t help being glad,” was the 
reply. “ I’ve been glad all day, and now 
I’m gladder than ever. I wanted you to 
come. Please look at the moss I brought 
home. Harold got it from an old tree, he 
calls the mother tree, it’s so large. Isn’t it 
beautiful ? ” 

“ Very ; but it is not moss, it is lichen.” 

“Well, I didn’t know. I’ve heard folk& 
call it moss, and it grows on trees.” 

“ Lichens grow on trees ; and there is a 
very decided difference between them and 
mosses, which botanists recognize at once. 
Each variety, too, has a specific name.” 

“ And do you know them all ? ” 

“ I know but very few. When your Miss 


100 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

Greenleaf comes, I think I must study with 
her.” 

“ And is she coming ? ” 

“I hope so. We shall try to induce her 
to come. I have written to inquire about 
her, and your praise is fully indorsed. She 
must be a remarkable young lady.” 

“ Oh, Miss Austen, she’s just as good as she 
can be ! But you see she’s poor, and has to 
work all the time, else I don’t suppose she’d 
have any thing at all. But what can she do 
with her mother ? and who’ll take care of 
her little cottage if she comes here ? ” 

“ I don’t know. But if it is best for her 
to come there will be a way provided, as 
Mrs. Bumstead says.” 

“ And when will you know certain 
whether she comes, or not ? ” 

“ In a fortnight perhaps.” 

“ Oh ! if she comes I shall be perfectly 
happy. I’ve told Norah about her, and she 


OLD AND YOUNG 


101 


wants her for a teacher. I know every 
body’ll like her. If she was here now she’d 
make something real handsome out of what 
I brought home.” 

“ I think you have made something very 
pretty.” 

“ I think so too, but it isn’t like what 
she’d do,” replied Jessie frankly. “ I know 
when it’s all done right, but I can’t do it. 
Norah can though.” 




CHAPTER VI. 

OBPHANED. 

LICE GREENLEAF moved softly 
across the room, and, opening a door 
leading into the little “ storm-entry,” 
passed through, and stood where the cool 
night wind fanned her throbbing brow. She 
was alone ; and, turn whichever way she 
might, there was neither sight nor sound of 
human life. 

From her childhood she had depended 
upon herself, seeking little sympathy from 
others, yet giving in largest measure wher- 
ever there was need of generous words or 
deeds. Her mother, a delicate woman with 



103 


ORPHANED. 


103 


little strength of mind or body, had clung to 
her through all the years of widowhood, 
without once finding the trusted support 
give way. Now this mother was sick, — it 
might be unto death ; and the daughter’s 
heart cried out for some token that she was 
remembered beyond her cottage home. 

She knew there were those who would 
come to her at the first intimation that they 
were desired. She had chosen to remain 
alone : yet as the hours went by she was 
oppressed with a painful sense of isolation. 
Her hands were clasped, and her lips moved 
as if in prayer, when a faint murmur re- 
called her to the house. A moment later 
she was standing by the bedside of her 
mother, whose pallid face and fast glazing 
eyes told but too plainly of the death-angel’s 
presence. 

“Bless you, my Alice! God bless you, 
my child, and keep you in all your way ! I 


104 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

have done little for you, but you have done 
much for me. I am going.” 

“ O mother, mother, don’t leave me! 
Don’t leave me ! ” 

No voice replied to this wild cry of agony. 
There were a few struggles, and all was over. 
Then Alice Greenleaf bowed her head, and 
wept long and bitterly. When the morning 
dawned, she sat motionless, gazing into the 
face of the dead. A neighbor raised the 
latch, and entered. 

“I couldn’t sleep for thinking of you,” 
was said in a subdued tone. “ ’Twa’n’t right 
to leave you here alone last night, and I’d a 
good mind to come over before daylight. 
You poor child, you ! ” added the woman as 
she saw what had transpired. “ If I’d 
known how ’twas, I’d come any way. To 
think there wa’n’t nobody here when your 
mother died ! What time was it ? ” 

“ I don’t know. I didn’t mind the time. 


ORPHANED. 


105 


It was all so sudden, I didn’t think of it. It 
seemed as though the whole world had for- 
gotten me.” 

“ No wonder, child, — no wonder. My 
heart misgive me about you, though I didn’t 
think your mother’d go so soon ; ” and the 
speaker threw her arms protectingly around 
the orphaned girl. “ Now come into the 
sitting-room, and let me shut this door. I’ll 
start up the fire while you lie down and rest 
till I’ve got a cup of tea ready for you.” 

Alice yielded to the gentle force which 
drew her to a low couch, and allowed her- 
self to be dictated without a thought of 
self-assertion ; thankful there was some one 
to care for her. 

Directly, a signal notified others that help 
was needed at the cottage ; and, before an 
hour had passed, others came to prepare the 
lifeless body for burial. Two days went by 
like a strange, troubled dream, from which 


106 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

one struggles vainly to awake ; and then 
there was a quiet funeral, where neighbors 
came together to manifest their respect for 
the dead, and their sympathy for the liv- 
ing. 

“ Don’t go back there alone,” said a kind- 
hearted man, when, after the last rites, Alice 
desired to be carried home. “Any way, 
don’t go to-night. Come home with us, and 
take time to think what’s best.” 

“ I’d best go now,” was the tearful reply. 
“ I shall be better there. You are very good, 
and I thank you, but I prefer to go home.” 

The bit of a cottage, looking to the south, 
was an attractive feature of the landscape 
that afternoon. Some evergreen trees stood 
at a little distance, and there was a harmony 
in its surroundings which a practised eye 
would recognize at once. It was like its 
owner, plain and homely ; yet as far removed 
from ugliness as are the outlines of some 


ORPHANED. 


107 


rugged hill, over which a misty cloud may at 
any moment throw a veil of loveliness. 

There was now only herself for the owner 
to consider. There was no further need for 
a division of her wages. She could com- 
mand larger opportunities and privileges. 
But of this she did not think in her profound 
sense of bereavement. For the time there 
seemed to be nothing more for her in life. 
She had lost all incentive to action. 

Other hands than hers had loaded the 
shelves of her pantry with food, and other 
hands had spread the table in anticipation of 
her return. The last rays of the setting 
sun fell upon her choicest plants, still beau- 
tiful in their symmetry and luxuriance, 
although their wealth of bloom lay close 
beneath a coffin lid. Not a picture had been 
displaced. There was not one shadow more 
upon the wall than had been there a week 
before; and yet for Alice Greenleaf, all the 
brightness had gone from her home. 


108 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

But there was work waiting for her, and 
only the next day she must decide where 
this work should be clone. Wearily she 
arose in the morning, replying listlessly to 
the greetings of the friend who had remained 
with her. She could not eat. Despite the 
kindly urging, her breakfast was untasted. 
She had just left the table when a letter was 
brought. 

“ I didn’t come with it last night because 
I thought you wouldn’t want to be dis- 
turbed,” said the bearer. “I hope ’taint 
any thing to take you away from us, Alice. 
We don’t want to spare you. If you’ll stay 
right amongst us, same as you always have, 
we’ll do the best we can for you, and see 
that you aint left to be too lonesome.” 

“ Thank you. You are all very good to 
me. I don’t know why I should leave 
you.” 

Later, she opened the letter, glancing 


ORPHANED. 


109 


down the page to read the name of the 
writer, “ Margaret Austen.” It was mere- 
ly a business epistle, asking Miss Greenleaf 
to accept the position of teacher in Austen- 
ville ; but it was characterized by a friendli- 
ness of tone, and a subtle sympathy, which 
appealed strongly to the heart of her to 
whom it was addressed. She remembered 
Jessie Elliot with affection, and, considering 
the inducements offered, was inclined to 
reject all other proposals, and test her ability 
amid new surroundings. 

Many were disappointed at her decision, 
and many expressed the opinion that she was 
acting unwisely. She would be going from 
home, where she was known and appreci- 
ated. Who would care for her as would her 
old friends ? 

But one person approved of her intention ; 
and she, of all, could least afford to lose such 
a friend. Mrs. Dawson, a widow with whom 


110 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

the world had dealt hardly, and who had 
often gained strength and courage from 
Alice Greenleaf, said, “ Now is your oppor- 
tunity. You may not have another so desir- 
able. I have faith to believe that Providence 
is leading you, and you will do well to 
follow. I don’t know how Jimmy and ] 
can live without you, but I hope you will 
go.” 

Jimmy, whose distorted feet made him 
painfully sensitive to every word and look 
of those with whom he came in contact, 
could not indorse his mother’s wish. Look- 
ing up into the face of his dearly loved 
teacher, his eyes filled with tears at the 
thought of her going where he could not see 
her. There was for him but one consola- 
tion : his home was to be in the very cottage 
he had learned to regard as the “ prettiest 
house in the world,” and within a week he 
was established there. Thus Miss Greenleaf 


OnPHANED. 


Ill 


conferred a favor upon others, while sub- 
serving her own interests. 

So the way was prepared for her change 
of residence, in a manner Margaret Austen 
had not expected, and certainly would not 
have desired. In the midst of a driving 
snow-storm her letter was given into this 
lady’s hands, and the superscription closely 
scanned before it was opened. The chirog- 
raphy was clear and strong; graceful, too, 
despite its boldness. 

“ I know I shall like her,” was the hearty 
comment. 

“ I trust we shall all like her,” responded 
Edward Stuart. “ She has some character,” 
he added, after a careful reading of what she 
had written. “ Mr. Elliot will have no fur- 
ther trouble about a teacher, except to pro- 
vide her with a good boarding place.” 

“ That must be done, ^of course, even if 
we take her here, although it would be 


112 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

better to find a place for her among the 
people. Perhaps you may as well see Mr. 
Elliot this evening. He must have sus- 
pended sugar-making before this time.” 

“ I presume he has, but he would stay on 
the hill as long as any thing could be gained 
by it. I can go to his house ; and, if he is 
not there, I shall be sure of a welcome from 
Jessie.” 

Mr. Elliot was hastening home, when the 
young man accosted him, inquiring why he 
had not returned home before dark. 

“ Because there was work to be done,” 
he responded. “ Now I’ve left every thing 
safe at the camp, and well boarded up, so 
there’s no danger of accident; and to-mor- 
row morning there’ll be a chance to bring 
away what sirup we’ve got on hand. Then, 
if Mrs. Bumstead can spare the back kitchen 
stove, we’ll have fit sugared off in good 
shape. I bought an extra pan to use for 
that especial purpose.” 


ORPHANED. 


113 


“ All right. I’ve no doubt you can have 
the stove, and plenty of help with it. I was 
going to your house.” 

“ Then keep right along. You can talk 
with Jessie while I eat my supper ; for eat I 
shall, unless important business is to be 
transacted. A day in the woods gives a man 
a famous appetite, and, fortunately, I always 
find enough to satisfy me. I am beginning 
to feel like a man again, Mr. Stuart.” 

“You are certainly regarded as a very 
capable and^ intelligent man. For us you are 
the right man in the right place. Gray says 
you’ve helped him more than anybody else, 
except Aunt Margaret.” 

Here their conversation was interrupted by 
Jessie, who opened the door, exclaiming, 
“ How long you staid away, father ! I’ve 
been looking for you this great while.” 

“ Well, now two of us have come, perhaps 
that will make up for my being late,” re- 
plied her father ' ' 8 


114 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“And I have news which will pay you 
for waiting,” remarked Mr. Stuart, smiling 
down into her eager face. “ Miss Greenleaf 
is coming.” 

“ Oh, I’m just as glad ! I thought ’twas 
dreadful lonesome when it began to snow, 
but now I don’t care only for the poor little 
birds. I suppose they thought winter was 
all gone, the same as I did, and now it’s come 
back again. There aint a seed left in the 
sunflower heads ; and all the weeds and grass 
are covered up, except by the old shed, 
where there are some little bare patches. 
But I’m so glad Miss Greenleaf’s coming ! 
Now I shall study botany, and learn all I 
want to know.” 

While talking thus freely, Jessie was not 
unmindful of her father’s comfort. Two or 
three dishes of food, and a pot of steaming 
coffee, were placed upon the table. 

The visitor watched her quick, deft move- 


ORPHANED. 


115 


ments admiringly; noting the happy smile 
irradiating her face, and contrasting her 
present life with what it must have been 
only a few months before. 

Strange that a man who could so nobly 
bear his part in all responsibility should 
have fallen so low ; and stranger still, that, 
haying thus fallen, he should have striven to 
rise from his degradation ! 




CHAPTER VII. 

PAST FINDING OUT. 

jL night the snow fell heavily ; but 
with the morning, the sun appeared in 
its splendor, like a strong man rejoi- 
run a race. Forest trees, whose long, 
flexible branches yielded to their burden, 
trailed to the very ground ; while the ever- 
greens were jewelled like an Eastern princess 
whose robes are heavy with the wealth of a 
kingdom. 

Only here and there had the wind swept 
aside the fleecy mantle whose dazzling 
whiteness no painter’s art can ever rival. 
Spring had suddenly vanished, and in her 
stead stern winter again held sway. 



cing to 


116 


PAST FINDING OUT. 


117 


“ Strange weather,” said Mr. Bumstead, 
removing his hat, and threading his iron- 
gray hair with his fingers. “ Strange 
weather,” he repeated. “ There’s no telling 
what to expect from one day to another. 
Sometimes it’s one thing, and sometimes 
another. Late snows don’t do any hurt 
though. They fill up the springs, and that 
helps along.” 

“ What a sponge the ground is ! ” remarked 
Miss Austen, who had overheard the fore- 
going soliloquy. “ It sometimes seems to 
have absorbed all that it can, and yet it will 
soon dispose of its share of a snow like this ; 
holding the moisture in reserve, until the 
heat of summer brings it to the surface. 
Mr. Bumstead is probably thinking that it 
will help to swell our brook, and so make 
sure that the supply will not fail.” 

“I presume he does think of that,” re- 
plied Edward Stua.rt. “ His whole mind is 


118 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

given to the mill and its interests. The 
farm and the sugar-making count for 
nothing with him.” 

“ Sugar-making will count for something 
with Mrs. Bumstead and Robert. They are 
making great preparations to assist Mr. 
Elliot. The back kitchen is already swept 
and warmed.” 

Just then the sugar-maker himself came 
up the well cleared avenue, and was greeted 
heartily. 

“ The top of the morning to you ! You 
look in good working order.” 

“ That’s what I am, and I’ve work on 
hand. I’ve been waiting for such a morning 
as this ; and, now it has come, I intend to 
improve it. I shall want the horses an hour 
of two.” 

“ You can have them. There’s some 
teaming to be done, but there’ll be time 
enough for it before this snow leaves us. It 

wont go to-day.” 


PAST £ IN I) IN G OUT. 


119 


“ There are no signs of it,” was the re- 
sponse. “ This isn’t our last snow-storm 
either. There’s enough more to come down 
to fill feather beds for all the old women in 
the country.” 

“ Pretty cold beds.” 

“ But not cold coverlets. You remember 
that snow is a warm blanket.” 

“ Yes, I remember. But snow makes 
water, and that’s the most I care about.” 

Harold Dorsey was waiting for Mr. Elliot ; 
and, as he sprang to his place on the sled, he 
said joyously, “ I never was so happy in all 
my life before.” 

“ What has happened to you ?” asked his 
companion. 

“ I don’t really know. But the world’s 
all made over. I never saw it as it is this 
morning. It don’t seem but a little ways up 
to where God is ; and then, too, it seems as 
though he was right in my heart. Is he in 
yours, Mr. Elliot ? ” 


120 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“No, Harold, he is not. Why should he 
be ? You and I don’t think alike about such 
things, so we’d better not talk about them. 
I am glad if you are happy, and you cer- 
tainly look so.” 

“I am happy. I feel as though I be- 
longed somewhere now. I wish grandsir 
was alive, so I could tell him.” 

“If he had lived you might not have 
had any thing to tell. You would not be 
here.” 

“I don’t suppose I should. But what 
made you come, Mr. Elliot ? ” 

“ I came because it was the best place for 
me ; and you came because I was here ; and 
you knew about me because, in my wander- 
ings, I had stopped at your grandsir’s house, 
and he had learned to have some confidence 
in me, bad as I was. I should like to see the 
old place again. Shouldn’t you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, indeed I should. I mean to go 


PAST FINDING OUT. 


121 


there some time, but I don’t care so much 
now where I am.” 

“ Do Mr. and Mrs. Peavy know how 
happy you are this morning ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, I told them. I want to tell 
everybody ; and I wish you were just as 
happy as I am.” 

“ How did this great happiness come to 
you?” This question was asked in a tone 
intended to be sufficiently careless : yet the 
interest which had prompted it could not be 
concealed. 

“ I asked God to forgive all my sins, and 
make my heart pure and clean. I knew if 
he would only do that I should be happy.” 

“ What sins have you ever committed, 
Harold ? You’ve always done as well as 
you knew how. There’s no sense in asking 
forgiveness when there’s nothing to be 
forgiven.” 

“ But sometimes I didn’t know, and likely 


122 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

I’ve done a good deal wrong without mean- 
ing to,” was the young man’s reply. 
“ Then I didn’t love God when I ought to. 
That made me feel so bad when I read all 
about him and his Son, that I cried a good 
deal ; and I knew, any way, that my heart 
couldn’t be all right.” 

“ We’re none of us perfect, and we can’t 
expect to be,” responded Mr. Elliot a little 
sharply, and then said, “This is a grand day 
for getting into the woods with a team, and 
our road isn’t a bad one. Miss Austen and 
Mr. Stuart ought to take a look at this part 
of their property. Here we are ; every 
thing all right just as we left it.” 

The snow was quickly' shovelled away 
from the south side of the rude shanty, the 
sirup carefully loaded, and, long before they 
were expected back, Robert shouted that the 
“ team was coming.” 

“ Them two are always ahead of the 


PAST FINDING OUT. 


123 


time,” answered Mrs. Bumstead. “ We’ll 
have a busy day, and a rare one too. I’ll 
just stand back, and see how it’s done, but 
I’ll be ready to lend a hand in case of need.” 

A rare day, indeed, it promised to be to 
all concerned. Jessie Elliot was invited up 
to “ the party,” as Robert styled the occa- 
sion ; and, gladly responding to the call, she 
flitted from the piazza, where she watched 
the feeding of storm-driven birds, to the 
kitchen where the bubbling sirup was no 
less eagerly watched. 

“ This is the best sugar we shall make this 
year,” said her father. “ It will be very 
white, and well flavored too. We shall have 
another good run as soon as it comes off 
warm again, but the sap will not be so sweet, 
nor the sugar made from it so white.” 

“ Why not, Mr. Elliot?” 

“ Because the buds will be further ad- 
vanced, and the sap will be less pure.” 


124 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

This was a satisfactory explanation to one 
accustomed to observe the processes of 
nature with an intelligent eye, while it only 
roused the curiosity of the younger members 
of the company. 

“ Could anybody make sugar all the year 
round?” asked Jessie. 

“ Certainly not, child. After the first rise 
of the sap in the spring, there is only enough 
to provide for the regular growth of the 
tree.” 

“But where does the sap come from, Mr. 
Elliot ? Where is it before it goes up into 
the tree ? ” 

“ Whatever feeds the tree in spring must 
come from the ground. Later in the season, 
when the tree is growing vigorously, and it 
is covered with leaves, they absorb some- 
thing from the air, the rain, and the dew.” 

“But, father, there’s always sap in the 
tree in winter as well as summer. It fries 


/ 


PAST FINDING OUT. 125 

out of a green stick of wood when you put 
it in the stove. I don’t suppose I’ve used 
the right word, but folks call it frying out,” 
added Jessie, glancing at Miss Austen. 

“ I don’t know what more fitting word 
could be used,” responded the lady, smiling 
her approval. 

Directly Robert asked, “ What is it that 
goes up from the ground into the tree ? Is 
it just the same for every tree ? ” 

“ Not exactly. All soils would not fur- 
nish exactly the same nourishment. But 
there must be water, and the water must be 
more or less impregnated with ammonia and 
carbonic acid. You find a different growth 
of trees on different soils. Pines will flour- 
ish where maples would hardly take root.” 

“ Well, how is it, if almost the same thing 
is carried up to all the trees, that you can’t 
make sugar from them all ? ” 

“Perhaps, Robert, that’s not a strange 


126 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

question for you to ask,” replied Mr. Elliot, 
with an amused smile. “ I have heard of 
an old sailor who bought a country farm, 
and intending to carry on his farm in true 
landsman style, tapped about three hundred 
trees, and expected to make a large amount 
of sugar. He had a good opinion of his 
own ability, so he didn’t trouble himself to 
ask anybody’s advice. He tapped the trees 
just as they came, only looking out for the 
large ones ; and of course, when he came to 
boil down the sap, he didn’t find himself 
very well supplied with sweetening.” 

“ A man ought to know better than that,” 
remarked Harold. “ The sap of trees aint 
all alike. Some of it is sticky, and a good 
deal is bad tasting.” 

“ Yes ; our sailor found that out to his sor- 
row, and got thoroughly laughed at for his 
pains. It seemed to the people round him 
just as it seems to you, that he ought to have 


PAST FINDING OUT. 


127 


known better. But they had always lived 
among trees, while he had been on the sea 
mos^ of his life. Put you on shipboard, and 
you would be as much out of place and as 
ignorant as he was.’ 7 

“ So I should, sir. I don’t know but little 
about any thing, and I shouldn’t said what I 
did.” 

“ Yes, you should. You were all right. 
But you see none of us can know every 
thing. I know very little about trees 
myself, even such as I’ve seen all my life. 
I wish somebody would explain to me how 
the same material is worked up into such 
different substances.” 

“ Why, father, God does it just as he’s 
a mind to,” responded Jessie confidently. 
“ That’s all there is to know, only Miss Aus- 
ten says we can understand some of his 
ways.” 

Here the business of the hour demanded 


128 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

immediate attention, and further discussion 
was postponed, much to the relief of Mr. 
Elliot, whose daughter had confronted him 
with the great truth he was so slow to 
accept. Moreover, as he afterwards laugh- 
ingly acknowledged, he was u hard pushed 
by the questions of the youngsters.” He 
knew at what time the largest flow of sap 
might be expected, and when it would be 
best to leave the trees to their own sweet 
will ; but there were many processes he did 
not understand, perhaps past his finding out. 

“ Sure, you’re always at something far off 
or hid away. I’m wondering what’s the 
good,” remarked Mrs. Bumstead good- 
naturedly. “ You wouldn’t be after mak- 
ing sugar in summer when there’s no end of 
other work.” 

“ I have seen sugar made in summer,” 
replied Mr. Elliot. 

“ May be, but twasn’t in such a country 
as this.” 


PAST FINDING OUT. 


129 


“ It was very much such a country, and 
less than a hundred miles away. A man 
tapped a few trees in August, and made some 
sugar. He had heard that it could be dono, 
so he tried the experiment. I suppose the 
secret of it is, that when the sap starts early 
in the spring, and the leaves get their full 
growth, and the new branches are solid and 
firm, so the tree is all ready for next year, 
there will be some surplus sap that can be 
taken away without injuring the tree. That 
is what is called August sap.” 

“Well, I never! you’re just at the sap 
again,” said the smiling woman, who had 
prepared dinner for the entire company, 
and felt herself more than repaid for the 
extra work by a hearty appreciation of her 
efforts. “ First it’s trees, and then it’s birds, 
and then it’s trees again. Would you mind 
telling me, an old woman, if you might 
make sugar from any other tree than 


130 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

44 Mother’s real happy to-day,” whispered 
Robert to Jessie by whom he was standing. 
“ She’s just making fun now because we’ve 
asked so many questions.” The next mo- 
ment his eyes opened wide at the answer she 
received. 

44 I have seen sugar that was made from 
the sap of a butternut tree.” 

“ Why, father ! ” 

44 That is true, strange as it may seem. 
There are a great many things for us all to 
learn.” 

44 So many ! how can we ever learn ? ’' 
sighed Jessie. “ It’s just as Mrs. Bumstead 
says. First it’s one thing, and then it’s 
another. Now, I want to know all about 
sap. If it’s the same thing that goes up 
from the ground into all the trees, why 
don’t you get the same thing when you tap 
the trees ? Seems to me, father, you might 
just tell us that.” 


PAST FINDING OUT. 


131 


“ That’s just what I want to know most 
of any thing,” added Robert. 

“ And I too,” rejoined Harold. 

“ I ought to be able to tell you about that ; 
but the truth is, my knowledge of botany is 
not very extensive. Perhaps, though, I can 
help you a little. There are two kinds of 
sap, — the crude sap, and the true sap. The 
crude sap is what the roots take from the 
ground, and send up ; or, rather, what is 
drawn up into the trunk and branches. At 
the start, it is just what the ground furnishes ; 
but, as it goes along, it gets mixed with the 
old sap, and the substances composing the 
live wood, and takes from them the peculiar 
characteristics of the tree.” 

“ And what makes different kinds of trees, 
Mr. Elliot ? ” 

u That I don’t know,” was the quick 
reply. 

“ There must be some cause in natural 


132 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMAN. 


selection, or there must be One whose ways 
no man can follow, and who orders all things 
according to the counsel of his own will.” 

This was said by Edward Stuart, whose 
presence had not been observed until he 
began to speak ; and no one was more sur 
prised than himself when answer was made, 
44 1 am more and more convinced of that 
every day of my life.” 




CHAPTER VIII. 


THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY. 


* ASON STUART was hurrying down 
the street, evidently forgetting his 
£ lameness, and yet limping awk- 
wardly, when a familiar voice arrested his 
steps. 

“ Hold on there ! you won’t gain time 
that way.” 

The boy looked up into the face of Dr. 
Gray, and said courteously, “ Good after- 
noon, sir.” 

“ Good afternoon. You are giving your 
ankle a hard try. Did you know that? Yoju 
are not a steam-engine.” 


183 


134 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

44 No, sir ; but I had on considerable steam 
when somebody whistled 4 Down brakes/ ” 

44 And the doctor whistled. I suppose you 
lay that at my door.” 

44 Yes, sir : I was in a hurry to get home.” 

44 And this morning you were in a hurry to 
get to school.” 

44 Yes, sir.” 

44 Well, before you do much sleeping your 
ankle will probably remind you that it is not 
made of cast-iron. Be a little more careful 
of it, else you can’t walk twenty miles a day 
in your summer vacation, and climb all the 
mountains in sight of Austenville.” 

44 Yes, sir, thank you,” said Mason as he 
went on his way with slackened speed ; and 
yet his professional friend doubted his grat- 
itude. 

44 That is the smartest boy in town,” re- 
marked a gentleman. 44 He will eclipse his 
brothers, and come out ahead where they 

would make a dead failure.” 


THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY. 


135 


u I’m not sure of that,” replied the doc- 
tor. “ I think I know the boy thoroughly, 
and I’m ready to indorse what you say of his 
smartness ; but his brothers will show them- 
selves equal to the demands made upon 
them. Edward always ranked high as a 
scholar, and now bids fair to rank high 
among business men. There’s a good deal 
of their grandfather in those boys, and their 
father was a smart man too.” 

“ I know it, but Mason is the prince of 
the family. Clarke is very popular, but for 
a hard pull, that young brother of his will 
beat him two to one. Mason’s heart is in 
the right place too. Perhaps you don’t 
know how benevolent he is. Yes, sir, he is 
right down benevolent in the best sense of 
that word. Just now he is trying to help 
Rufus Brown buy back Clover Top. from his 
mother. Mrs. Brown was obliged to sell 
the cow ; and Mrs. Stuart bought her with 


136 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

the understanding that she should go bach 
when times improved. Mason came to me, 
and told me he wanted to earn some money ; 
and, when I asked him what in particular he 
wanted it for, he told me the whole story. 
So I engaged him to put ten cords of wood 
into my shed at fifty cents a cord.” 

“ Well, Mr. Wilmarth, that was all right 
on your part, but Mason Stuart is doing all 
he ought to without taking any extra jobs. 
There are others who can help Mrs. Brown ; 
and I, for one, am willing to do it.” 

“ So am I,” responded Mr. Wilmarth. 
“ Let us collect the price of the cow, and 
give it to Mason ; and, as no time is so good 
as the present, let us do it this evening.” 

Meanwhile, the boy whose character had 
been thus considered walked slowly until 
sure that he was beyond the observation of 
Dr. Gray, when he made such haste as he 
could. He carried a letter in his pocket, 


THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY. 


137 


which he was impatient to read ; and he 
hoped also to have some time for the wort 
he had engaged to do. When he reached 
home, however, he found his sister Madge 
waiting for help which he could give her ; 
and this so delayed him that he was obliged 
to relinquish his plan. 

“ Making maple sugar ! ” he exclaimed, 
after reading a page of his precious letter. 
“ I wish I had some this minute. It’s pretty 
hard on a fellow to stay here where there 
aint any thing of any account going on, when 
all the time there’s such a place as Austen- 
ville ready for him. Shouldn’t I like to be 
there ! They’ve sugared off once in the 
back kitchen. Just think of that, girls! 
They had a talk about different kinds of 
sap too. Mr. Elliot knows almost every 
thing, I guess; and, what he don’t know, 
Aunt Margaret of course does. Think of 
making maple sugar in August, and then 


138 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

think of making sugar from butternut-trees 
any time. We might tap Aunt Margaret’s 
big tree. Cousin Rachel wouldn’t have any 
right to say we shouldn’t, and I guess Dick 
would agree to it. This is a pretty short 
letter ; but there’s a good deal in it, and it’s 
first-rate too.” 

“Perhaps you’ll allow the rest of us to 
read it,” said Madge. 

“ Yes, I’m willing you should. There 
aint any privacy in it. I hadn’t any thing 
particular to consult Aunt Margaret about 
the last time I wrote to her.” 

As this was a characteristic speech, no 
notice was taken of it, and presently the 
appearance of Dick Fielding turned Mason’s 
attention. 

“ Say, old fellow, what do you know about 
sugar-making ? ” he asked abruptly. 

“ Very little,” was the reply. 

“ Well, they’ve got a man at Austenville 


TEE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY. 


139 


that knows all about it ; and they’ve got a 
sugar-grove, too, on the south side of a hill. 
I wonder how many kinds of trees there are 
that you can make sugar from. Do you 
know?” 

“ No, I don’t.” 

“ Well, now, that’s the same old story. I 
aint finding fault with you ; hut I wish, when 
T ask people questions, they’d always know. 
If you’re going to be a doctor, it’s just in 
your line to study about trees and such 
things.” 

“ Exactly, Mason ; and, whatever I may 
be, I am sufficiently interested in trees and 
such things, to make me wish to know all I 
can about them. But you are a famous 
fellow for asking questions, and taking 
people by surprise.” 

“I know it, Dick, and I don’t doubt but 
what people get dreadful tired of me. But, 
you see, I’m taken by surprise myself, and 


140 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

how am I to find out things if I don’t ask 
questions? I know sugar is made from 
sugar-cane, and sorghum, and beets, but I 
don’t suppose they are all the sugary vegeta- 
bles there are.” 

“ There are a great many others.” 

“ Is there sugar in the sap of all trees ? ” 
now asked Mason eagerly, as the thought 
occurred to him for the first time. 

“ I think not,” was replied. “ Yet I am 
sure it occurs in a greater or less degree in 
many, and it is present in most vegeta- 
bles.” 

“ Well, it’s strange, isn’t it, how all these 
things are managed, and there don’t seem to 
be any mistakes.” 

“ If there were mistakes in nature, we 
should never feel sure of any thing. There 
would be no encouragement to study. But, 
in all the wonderful diversity of the differ- 
ent kingdoms, there is a systematic order 


THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY. 


141 


which never changes, so that by patient per- 
severance it is possible to fathom some of its 
mysteries.” 

“ Well, now, Dick, that’s a pretty grand 
speech for you to make. It sounds some like 
a college professor, and it’s true every time. 
I used to think, when somebody told me any 
thing, I could know all about it without 
taking the trouble to think about it myself ; 
but I’ve found out that I’ve got to put my 
mind to it any way. When I read 4 Robin- 
son Crusoe,’ and 4 Swiss Family Robinson,’ 
I took it all for true ; but since then it seems 
strange every thing should turn up in just 
the right time. If anybody was cast away 
on an island anywhere near the coast of New 
England, where the land wasn’t cultivated, 
they wouldn’t find much to live on.” 

44 Not so much as there would be in a 
warmer climate ; but, you remember, you 
thought there would be a chance even on a 


142 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

bare rock in the ocean, and the land any- 
where would give you more than that.” 

46 Yes, I guess it would ; but it might be 
hard hying, for all that. Getting cast away 
wouldn’t be so bad if you could find oranges 
and cocoanuts waiting for you, and all you 
have to do just pick them.. Then I’ve read 
about the cow-tree. All you have to do to 
get milk from that, is just to make an incis- 
ion, and take what comes. Tell you what, 
Dick, that’s a good deal easier than feeding 
a live cow regularly, and milking twice a 
day.” 

44 It certainly is ; but, all things considered, 
I think you would prefer milking a cow, to 
occupying a hut at the foot of one of these 
wonderful trees. You would hardly be 
willing to exchange your quaint china bowl 
for a rough calabash.” 

44 I guess I shouldn’t. I don’t mind wear- 
ing old clothes ; they’re a good deal more 


THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY. 


143 


comfortable than new ones ; but, when it 
comes to dishes and eating, I’m a dainty 
fellow. I wonder how people first found out 
what was fit to eat and drink. They know 
all about it now because things have been 
tried ; but I can’t think how they were tried 
in the beginning. I remember reading, when 
I was a little fellow, that Gov. Winthrop put 
some strawberry leaves in a broth he made 
for Massasoit. Now, I should like to know 
what good there is in strawberry leaves, and 
what made him think of using them. Do 
you know ? ’ 

“ No, I don’t: I never heard of it before.” 

“Well, I read it in an old history. Mas- 
sasoit was sick, and I guessed there was 
some medicine in the leaves. Aunt Comfort 
says most every thing’s good for something. 
You’d better study with her a while before 
you set up to be a doctor. She knows 
almost as much as that old root and herb 


144 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

woman who comes round here once in a 
while ; but I never thought much about it 
till lately. I mean to get Madge to keep a 
list of what can be made from the sap of 
trees. She can do it just as well as not. 
Clarke might, but I don’t suppose he would ; 
and, besides, I rather guess he’s got enough 
else to think of this summer. He’s going to 
be somebody yet, and I’m glad of it. I 
thought, one while, he cared more about 
fixing up and looking nice than any thing 
else ; but since mother lost her money he’s 
been getting more sensible.” 

“ Clarke is a very fine fellow, Mason.” 

“ Yes, I know it and I’m expecting a good 
deal of him now. But, you see, Ed’s having 
the best chance of any of us. Tell you 
what, it’s a big thing to live with Aunt 
Margaret, and have her to talk with any time 
you’re a mind to. When I’m a man, I hope 
there’ll be a girl something like her some- 
where.” 


THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY. 145 

u You’re looking a good ways ahead.” 

“ That’s the way to do. That’s what 
keeps a fellow hard at work when he feels 
awful lazy. It’s like a whip held over his 
back, and I guess most folks need it.” 

“ Do you ever feel lazy ? ” 

“ I guess I do. If anybody wanted to 
lie abed in the morning more than I did last 
winter, I’m sorry for him.” 

“ Then towards the last of the winter you 
took that cow to make more work.” 

“ Yes ; and I’m glad I did, though we aint 
going to keep her much longer. When grass 
grows, Mrs. Brown can afford to take her 
back, and she’ll do it. I’ve been looking 
ahead to that this good while.” 

This very looking ahead was one of the 
marked traits of Mason Stuart’s character. 
He had a habit of reasoning from cause to 
effect ; and, although he was sometimes 
impatient of results, he was nevertheless a 


10 


146 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

persistent worker, depending entirely upon 
himself whenever this was possible. 

Later in the evening, when he had mas- 
tered his Latin lesson, and was counting 
upon a good hour for reading, Mr. Wilmarth 
surprised him by calling, and placing in his 
hands the full amount which had been paid 
for Clover Top. 

“Now I suppose you’ll be glad to throw 
up the job you engaged to do for me,” 
remarked the gentleman. “ The doctor says 
you have enough on your hands without 
that ; and I can find somebody else to pile 
wood.” 

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” was the reply. 
“ But I don’t understand it. How came you 
to think of it ? ” 

“ Dr. Gray thought of it. The credit of 
it belongs to him.” 

“Well, I suppose it’s all right, though I 
don’t know what Rufe will say to it. Any 


THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY . 


147 


way, I’m much obliged to you, and to every 
one that gave the money. But, Mr. Wil- 
marth, can’t you let Rufe have the job ? 
He’ll manage it somehow, and he’ll be glad 
of the pay.” 

“ Yes, Rufus can do it. I would as soon 
pay him as anybody, and you can have your 
time for something else.” 

This conversation had taken place at the 
street-door ; and it was all such a surprise to 
the boy, that he quite forgot to invite his 
friend to enter the house. The gentleman 
was gone, and he was left to tell the story to 
his mother as best he might. Then he must 
needs see Mrs. Brown before he slept ; while 
it was no less necessary for him to consult 
Rufus. 

The latter was unwilling to accept the 
gift thus bestowed ; but some earnest words 
of persuasion at length removed his objec- 
tions, and he said heartily, “ I am just as 


148 WINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

thankful as I can be. We shall get along 
first rate now ; and perhaps, if I work hard 
this summer, I can go to school another 
winter. I want to.” 

“ You ought to go. Such a tip-top 
scholar as you are never ought to settle 
down to hard work without having time to 
study. The work part is all right ; but, you 
see, there can’t anybody very well do two 
things at once. You’re keeping up well 
though. Want any help about the les- 
sons ? ” 

“Not yet. I keep thinking every day I 
shall, but I’ve got along so far.” 

“ Good ! I’m glad of it. Hope you’ll come 
out the best scholar in school, and make one 
of the smartest men in the country. You 
can, just as well as not, if you only make up 
your mind. After all, as Aunt Margaret 
says, it’s only doing one day’s work at a 
time, and doing that just as well as you can. 


TEE PRINCE OF TnE FAMILY. 


149 


But I’ll tell you what the trouble is. A 
fellow gets his ideas waked up about some- 
thing, and he thinks he’ll go at it with all 
his might, and learn just what he wants to 
know. He’s in dead earnest a little while, 
but you see he don’t stick to it. He’ll lie 
abed too late in the morning, or he’ll go 
lazing round when he ought to be studying, 
or else he’ll pitch in and piay twice as long 
as he meant to, and forget all about what 
he’d started for. I tell you, too, it’s pretty 
hard on a fellow when he finds he’s got to 
live on the square right along, if he’s ever 
going to make his mark in the world. But 
for all that, Rufe, I’m bound to try it ; and 
you’re as good for it as I am, though you’ve 
got more to do to begin. You can count on 
me for just all the help I can give you ; and 
I shouldn’t wonder if I come round to Mr. 
Wilmarth sometimes when you’re tumbling 
over that wood.” 



CHAPTER IX. 

TREES AND THEIR SAP. 

f OME, Madge, you'd better commence 
that sap list,” said Mason Stuart to 
his sister, when a heavy rain made it 
almost certain that they must depend upon 
themselves for their evening’s entertainment. 
“ This is just the right time for hunting up 
things. I’ve studied like a trooper all day 
on purpose to gain time. Clarke 11 be along 
pretty soon, and we’ll get what we can out 
of him. We’ll press"” the whole family into 
service. I wish Aunt Margaret was here. 
She knows more than all the rest of us, but 
we’ll do the best we can.” 

150 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


151 


“ I know one thing that’s made out of 
sap,’' responded Hester eagerly. “ The 
teacher told us all about it the other day. 
It’s India-rubber, it’s got another awful 
hard name, but I shant try to speak it. I 
can write it though.” 

She took the slate, and wrote plainly, 
“ Caoutchouc.” Then she proceeded to give 
a description of the manner in which the 
milky sap is procured and prepared for use, 
adding, u It aint a bit nice work. I 
shouldn’t want to do it ; but then I don’t 
know how we could do without rubbers.” 

u We could do the same as people used to 
do in old times. As for the work, I would 
sooner go into the woods, and tap trees, than 
pick up bugs and beetles and all sorts of 
crawling things.” 

“ So should I,” chimed in Madge. “ But 
Hester has done well to remember so much 
of what she was told. There are several 


152 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

kinds of trees that have a milky sap which 
hardens into elastic gum. I have read about 
them.” 

“ So have I, but I couldn’t have told half 
as much about them as Hester did,” said 
Mason ; thus making amends for his dispar- 
aging remarks in regard to her favorite em- 
ployment. “ We’ll put rubber first on the 
list, and give her credit for it.” 

“But why not commence nearer home? 
Put it after maple sugar ; and the next thing 
I think of is turpentine. Then there’s pitch : 
that’s something like it.” 

“ Oh, yes ! that’s a bright thought of yours, 
Madge. I’ve read about the turpentine 
forests. The men who go to work there chip 
a piece out of a tree at just the right time ; 
and the first sap that runs is the clearest, 
and brings the highest price. Then there’s 
a good deal that’s dirty and darker, that they 
,have to get rid of the best way they can. 


TREES AND THEIR SAP . 


153 


But that’s, only the beginning of these 
things. I took some notes when I read about 
it, and that makes me remember. The tur- 
pentine is refined into oil of turpentine ; then 
that is distilled, and makes spirits of turpen- 
tine ; and what is left is resin. Then they 
burn up all the refuse stuff, and that makes 
tar, unless they want lamp-black instead of 
it. If they do, they have to burn it so they 
can save all the smoke. Now I’ve told all I 
know about that. I wish Dick was here. 
We’d find out what he knows. If it didn’t 
rain so hard I’d go after him.” 

44 He may come back with Clarke,” said 
Mrs. Stuart. 

44 Nobody knows when Clarke will come 
back, if he once gets where Nellie is. He’ll 
be sure to stay as long as he can, and she’ll 
be willing to keep him ; and I don’t blame 
either of them. Nellie’s a tip-top girl, and 
I don’t wonder she likes to have all the 


1T)4 TIIINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

pleasant folks round her she can get. Clarke 
don’t scold nor fret, only at me once in a 
while, and he’s getting over that. He’s im- 
proving.” 

“ Mason ! ” 

u Yes, mother. I didn’t speak against any 
one.” 

“ I know, my son, but implications are 
always ungenerous. I think you may expect 
Clarke soon. I sent a message by him to his 
aunt, and he knows that I am waiting for a 
reply. There he is now just unlatching the 
gate.” 

“ He aint talking with anybody,” remarked 
Lilia in a tone of disappointment. 

“ Halloo! It’s you, isn’t it?” shouted 
Mason, as he recognized his cousin’s step in 
the hall. “ You’re the very fellow we 
wanted to see. Where’s Clarke ? ” 

“ I left him with mother and the girls. 
They were willing to make an exchange for 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


155 


the evening, and I was willing to be ex- 
changed.” 

“ Good ! Now just sit down, and tell us 
all you know. We’re at our sap list ; and 
we’ve got as far as maple sugar, India-rubber, 
and turpentine. Hester has told us all about 
India-rubber. ' We know that turpentine 
comes from pine trees, and I guess we don’t 
care much more about it, because it’s no use 
spending too much time on one thing. We 
can’t afford it. If you’ve got any message 
for mother, you can deliver it, and then we’ll 
proceed to business. We want you to tell 
us what kind of trees are of the greatest 
value to the world.” 

“ Well, Mason Stuart, I call that wander- 
ing a good ways from our subject, and I 
think you are the very strangest boy I ever 
knew,” exclaimed Madge. “ You said we 
would talk about sap this evening.” 

“ I know it, and we’re going to. But, you 


156 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

see, I thought we’d get all we could out of 
Dick.” 

“ You are welcome to do so,” responded 
the cousin, who had already found an op- 
portunity to say what he wished to his 
aunt. “ The sap is the life of a tree, as 
the blood is the life of our bodies. But, to 
answer your question : trees belonging to 
the order coniferce are of the greatest value 
to the world. I have been studying them 
up a little, and find them of more importance 
than I thought.” 

“ Then go ahead. I suppose 4 coniferce ’ 
means trees that bear cones.” 

“ Yes, it does ; and some variety of these 
trees is found nearer to the poles than any 
other. There are pines, cedars, firs, and 
larches to begin with. The cedars of Leba- 
non, those grand old trees famous in Solo- 
mon’s time, belong to this order. Then the 
sequoias on the Pacific coast, growing to be 


TRE^S AND THEIR SAP. 


157 


of such enormous size, that, when I read about 
them, I think they were created for a race of 
giants. Pine trees are fruit trees, too, al- 
though they are not usually considered 
such.” 

“ I should think not, and I’m sure our 
pines don’t bear any fruit. They have cones, 
but the cones are not eatable.” 

“ No, but the seeds may be. Did you ever 
see a pine-seed ? ” 

u No : I never thought of looking for it,” 
answered Mason. “ Did you, Madge ? ” 

“ No, but I wonder I haven’t. I should 
like to see one. There are some cones in the 
shed, and I suppose the seeds are in the 
cones. Rufus Brown brought us the cones 
to kindle fires with. They are so full of 
pitch they burn in a minute. Now we are 
so far off the track we started on, we may as 
well study pine-cones as any thing else.” 

The cones were brought, and some of the 


158 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

scales removed, thus revealing the winged 
seeds which were immediately tasted. 

“ They aint a bit good,” said Lilia, who, 
while talking little, was wont to push her 
inquiries by actual experiment. “ I don’t 
know but the birds could eat them, they eat 
such queer things, but I couldn’t if I was 
ever so hungry.” 

“ Perhaps you could, little cousin. Hun- 
ger will drive one to eat some things that are 
not palatable, and a great many people have 
managed to live on more repulsive food than 
pine-seeds. But our pines are very poor 
specimens of their family. There is a vari- 
ety called the sugar-pine, which grows on 
the Pacific coast, and is in every respect a 
magnificent tree. It yields a white, trans- 
parent, resinous sap, that in its crude state 
tastes of turpentine; but when the tree is 
partially burned it loses most of that, and 
becomes nearly as sweet as sugar. It is 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


159 


sometimes used for sweetening, instead of 
sugar.” 

“ I shouldn’t think it would be very good,” 
remarked Madge. 

“ Not so good for food as for medicine ; 
but it gives a name to the tree, and fur- 
nishes a cheap medicine to the frontier peo- 
ple.” 

“ Well, Dick, I’m glad you came instead 
of Clarke. Madge, you can put down the 
sugar-pine beside the sugar-maple. There’s 
one thing I’ve learned this evening.” 

“ But you have not learned all about this 
sugar-pine. It’s greatest value is for lum- 
ber. It furnishes the best lumber for fin- 
ishing purposes that is found in California; 
and it grows to so great a size, that sticks 
can sometimes be cut from it a yard square 
and a hundred feet long. A forest of such 
trees is a lumberman’s paradise ; but there 
are others quite as remarkable.” 


160 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ Then tell us about them.” 

“ There is one remarkable for its bark. 
This is like cork, and is arranged in plates 
which give the trees a very strange appear- 
ance. If you could see them, Madge, you 
would have an excellent opportunity to 
study the habits of woodpeckers. They use 
the bark of these trees for storehouses or 
plantations. I don’t know which is the 
most appropriate name ; but they pack the 
bark with acorns, and then leave them till 
the grubs are hatched that they counted on. 
They prepare a dainty dish for themselves.” 

“ I wonder what kind of grubs they are,” 
said Hester. “ I mean to fasten up an acorn 
somewhere, and see. It is pretty bright in 
the woodpeckers to look out that way.” 

“ Birds are knowing creatures,” responded 
Madge. “ The more I learn about them, the 
more it seems to me that they can think and 
reason. I should like to see a woodpecker 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


161 


setting up his acorns. I presume he works 
with a will, and I know he can strike a 
smart blow.’’ 

“ Yes, indeed. Don’t you remember what 
a loud noise the one made that we heard in 
the woods last spring? He was whacking 
away at a tree that looked as sound as any ; 
but I’ve noticed lots of holes in old dead 
trees, where I suppose woodpeckers had 
been hunting after insects. Do you suppose 
they ever make any mistakes, Dick, and get 
their labor for their pains ? ” 

“ I don’t know, but I should think not. 
Instinct is a sure guide for all unreasoning 
creatures ; and, as Madge says, it does seem 
sometimes as though birds could reason. 
Anyway, they know where to look for the 
seeds of pines, and they are sure to select 
the best ones. The sugar-pine has seeds as 
large as apple-seeds, and the birds live upon 
them.” 


11 


162 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ Whew ! I should like to see them ; but 
then, come to think of it, that aint very 
large after all.” 

44 Not very ; but there are nut-pines with 
enormous cones, and seeds as large as beans. 
The Indians lay up stores of these seeds for 
their winter food, and would find it hard to 
live without them.” 

u Are you sure of all that, Dick ? ” 

“lam sure that I have good authority for 
it, and it seems to me perfectly reasonable. 
We must, of course, accept the testimony of 
others. No one person can examine the 
flora of the whole world.” 

44 4 Flora ’ is a new word. What does it 
mean, Cousin Dick?” 

44 It means all the trees and plants, and 
every thing that grows out of the ground. So, 
you see, the most learned botanist knows com- 
paratively little from his own observation. 
Some countries are richer in floral wonders 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


J 68 


than others. A tropical forest seems to me 
the most attractive place in the world/’ 

“ I don’t know about that. There’s got 
to be a good deal of hard work done before 
anybody can get through it. I’ve read 
about vines that grow tighter and tighter 
round the trees till they just hug them to 
death. Then there are lots of things that 
don’t seem to have any roots anywhere. 
They just hang on to something, and grow 
right along. But then there are splendid 
flowers there, and flocks of birds as bright 
and beautiful as flowers.” 

“ Yes, and hosts of insects, with creeping, 
slimy creatures without number,” added 
Madge. “ They would drive me crazy, but 
it would be a paradise for Hester.” 

“ I should like to see them all, but I 
should want Mason to go with me, and take 
care of me,” said the younger sister. 

“ I’ll do it,” was heartily responded. 


164 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“But we’re getting off the track. Sap is 
the subject under discussion. Have you 
finished the coniferae ? That’s the word, 
isn’t it ? ” 

“ Exactly. That’s what comes of your 
studying Latin. Some one told me to-day 
that you have the most perfect recitations in 
your class, and I was very glad to hear it. 
We all rather expected you would fail in 
that.” 

“ I knew you did, and it’s been a hard job 
for me not to. But I said I’d learn the out- 
landish stuff, and I will. I’m not going to be 
behind the rest, as long as I’ve got will 
enough to keep my head at work.” 

“ Good for you, Mason ! I guess Aunt 
Margaret has something to do with your 
decision.” 

“ I guess she has too. I aint ashamed to 
own it either. She knows Latin like a book. 
But I guess we’ve said enough about that. 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 16fj 

I want Madge to add something more to 
her list this evening.” 

u Dick may have something more to tell 
us about coniferse.” 

“ I’ve not much more well arranged in my 
mind, although I could talk longer about 
cone-bearing trees. The juniper and the 
yew belong to this order ; and the fruit of 
the juniper is used in some places in the 
manufacture of gin. The cypress grows in 
our southern swamps, and the roots have 
large excrescences growing on them, some- 
thing like those on our pines, only they are 
much larger. The cypress is considered an 
appropriate tree for cemeteries, but its wood 
is very valuable. There is another tree 
belonging to the same order, growing in 
Mauritania, which produces enormous knots 
at the foot of the trunk, and the wood of 
these is what the ancient Romans called 
citron-wood. Tables made of it were sold 
for their weight in gold.” 


166 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ And is that tree a cousin to our pines ? ” 
asked Mason. 

“ Yes, a cousin, although not a first 
cousin. It is a distant relative ; one of the 
nobility of the family, having the marked 
family traits.” 

“ One of the moneyed aristocracy, you 
mean, don’t you, Dick ?‘ I don’t believe it’s 
as grand a tree, after all, as some in our 
country.” 

“ Perhaps not. Our trees are something 
to be proud of. But to return to sap. I 
suppose you know that many of the paints 
and pigments in use are prepared from the 
sap of trees and plants. Dyes, for the most 
part, are made from different kinds of wood, 
but it is the sap which gives color to the 
wood.” 

“ Do you know what the otter Aunt 
Comfort likes to color with so much is made 
from ? ” asked Lilia. “ It aint otter either. 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


167 


T haint spoke the word right, though it’s just 
as Aunt Comfort says it. What is it, 
Madge ? ” 

“Annotto.” 

“ That, I believe, is made from the seeds 
of a tropical tree. But some way I have 
lost part of my story about pines as fruit- 
trees, and you must let me go back a little. 
On the shores of the Mediterranean there is 
a pine which produces edible seeds, and also 
in Siberia. Then, if you would rate all such 
trees at their full value, you must remember 
that they furnish the best of lumber, and a 
resinous sap which is used for a great variety 
of purposes. Capt. Cook cured his sailors 
of scurvy with a drink prepared from the 
sap of a New Zealand tree ; and there is 
another tree on the island where the resin 
exudes from the trunk, and is found in half 
fossilized blocks. Amber is a fossil resin, 
and petroleum must have the same origin as 
amber,” 


168 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ O Cousin Dick, do tell us more about 
amber ! ” now exclaimed Hester. “ I read, 
the other day, about a little girl that had a 
present of some amber beads, and one of 
them had a beetle in it all perfect. How 
could it come there? The amber is hard, 
isn’t it ? ” 

“Yes, or it couldn’t be made into beads ; 
and there is only one way the beetle could 
get into it.” 

“How is that? Was it ever any thing 
like pitch ? ” 

“It was at first. People know now, as 
certainly as any such thing can be known, 
that it is the resin of a species of pine. 
When it was flowing from a tree, a fly or a 
beetle might get stuck fast in it, and soon 
be entirely covered. Then, after a time, the 
resin would harden, and by and by a little 
girl find a beetle in one of her amber beads. 
Amber is so hard that it can be polished like 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


169 


the precious stones, and this brings out its 
beauties. It is very rough in its natural 
state, so that, unless a person is accustomed to 
it, he would never suspect what it is. Some- 
times there are tiny shells in it, and I have 
read of butterflies being found.” 

“ Oh ! I wish I had one. It would be a 
great deal handsomer than any of mine, I 
know.” 

“ You shall have one when I grow up, if 
there’s one to be bought,” replied Mason 
confidently. “ You ought to have one, Hes- 
ter, and you shall.” 

“ But perhaps it will cost too much 
money,” said the child, who had been learn- 
ing some lessons of economy during the last 
few months. 

“ I can earn it,” was her brother’s response. 
“ Don’t you worry about that. Now what I 
want to know is, if amber is all the time 
being made.” 


170 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ Not true amber. The trees which pro- 
duced it are extinct ; but there is a resin 
very much like it that has sometimes de- 
ceived people who think they know all about 
it. Amber burns in a manner peculiar to 
itself, and I believe this is considered a sure 
test of its being genuine.” 

“ I wish we had some here, so we could 
examine it. Is there any in our country? ” 

“ I think there is.” 

“ But how came there to be so much in the 
ground ? Who tapped the trees, and then let 
the sap all run away ? ’* 

“ Good for you, Lilia ! I’m glad you 
asked that question. You always go to the 
root of things. Let’s hear all about it, Dick.” 

“ The trees were not tapped. They grew 
until they were ready to fall from old age or 
some other cause ; and then as the wood 
decayed, perhaps from thousands of trees, 
the resin would accumulate in large quanti- 


TREES AND THEIR SAP. 


17 ) 


ties. Then the land might he covered with 
water, and so in time pieces be washed up 
on the shore of seas and lakes.” 

“ That’s one side of the story. But, if it’s 
true that it accumulated in large quantities, 
why isn’t it found in beds the same as coal 
is?” 

“ There are beds of what is called amber 
earth, that has pieces of amber scattered 
through it.” 

“ How large are the pieces ? ” 

“ They are generally small. Sometimes, 
though, they weigh half a pound, and occa- 
sionally more. Besides being beautiful for 
ornaments, amber reveals to * the geologist 
something of the history of the world, so 
that it has a double value.” 

“Well, this is all new to me, Dick, and I 
must say you’ve improved in your way of 
talking since last winter. You told us 
something about pine-trees then, but not 


1 72 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

half as much as you have now. I never 
thought much about amber, any way, but 
after this I shall be on the lookout for more 
light.” 

“ I am glad I have interested you, Mason,” 
replied Dick Fielding. “ I am glad, too, 
that you think I have improved. Perhaps I 
ought to tell you further about amber, that 
in ancient times it was regarded with a kind 
of superstitious reverence. When heated or 
pounded it gives out a subtle fragrance. 
Then it has certain electrical qualities ; and 
these, with its odor, are calculated to excite 
the wonder of ignorant people.” 

“ I should think so. There are hosts of 
wonderful things in the world ; but the 
strangest of all is, that every thing is planned 
to last so long in one shape or another, and 
that after all somebody gets the benefit of it. 
It seems as though the whole world was just 
a great workshop.” 


TREES AND THEIR SAD. 


173 


“ It is.” 

“And who is the foreman?” asked 
Madge lightly. 

“ God is, and I shouldn’t think you’d 
speak that way,” responded Lilia reverently. 
“ He knows every thing, and he has all the 
work done just as he says.” 

The faith so simply announced by Lilia 
Stuart was as spontaneous as the love out- 
flowing to her mother. The sweet trust 
and confidence grew and strengthened all 
unconsciously. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE HIDDEN WATERFALL. 

HE conviction that there is One who 
orders all things after the counsel of 
his own will was gradually accepted 
by Richmond Elliot ; but it brought to him 
no happiness. Strange that living so with 

nature, in its varied moods, he had failed 

* 

to recognize the unseen hand, which, while 
moulding a grain upon the sea-shore, holds 
the planets to their course. He saw it now, 
and the sight inspired him with terror. He 
who had faced poverty and wretchedness, 
asking neither sympathy nor assistance ; who 
had trodden the downward path, and, know- 



174 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL 175 

ing whither his steps were tending, had 
dfefied his fate, — now trembled at the 
thought of God. 

The snow which had sent him from the 
sugar-camp prevented his return until after 
the sabbath ; and he had just risen from 
the breakfast table when Jessie said, “Now, 
father, you must go to meeting this even- 
ing ; and Miss Austen said last Sunday she 
wanted everybody to say something besides 
a verse this time. You will, won’t you ? ” 

“ What shall I say ? ” he asked. 

“ Something good,” was his daughter’s 
reply. “ Most everybody that talked last 
Sunday said they loved Jesus, or else they 
wanted to be Christians.” 

“ What did you say, Jessie ? ” 

c 

“ I said I loved Jesus, and I wanted to be 
good, so I could live with him and mother 
in heaven. You want to live there too, 
don’t you, father ? Mother’ll miss you if you 


176 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

aint there,” and the child turned a plead- 
ing face to her father. 

“ She must be glad to miss me,” was the 
rejoinder made in a husky voice. 

“ Why, father! how can you say that? 
Mother asked God to forgive your sins, and 
let you come and live with her. Don’t you 
want to go ? ” 

The man thus addressed gave no sign that 
he had heard the searching question. His 
face, clear cut, with a wild, haggard look, 
might have been carved in stone for all of 
life it manifested. With a sigh Jessie left 
him, and went quietly to her work, while he 
rushed from the house. 

Once outside, a neighbor accosted him, 
and claimed his attention until he had re- 
gained his self-control. He wished he could 
spend the day alone upon the hillside ; but, 
as this could not be, he resolved to keep 
sternly silent, and so avoid any further 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL . 


177 


reminder of his duty. As he entered the 
kitchen, his little daughter looked up from 
her book, but, receiving no encouragement to 
speak, continued her reading. Later, they 
saw the family from the mansion-house driv- 
ing down the avenue ; Mr. Bumstead him- 
self holding the reins, and seeming well 
pleased with his position. 

“ There’s room for you with the rest, and 
you shall go next sabbath if we can find a 
woman to do the necessary sewing to get 
you ready.” 

“ O father! may I go?” exclaimed Jessie 
in response to his words. “ I sha’n’t mind 
much about my clothes, only I shouldn’t 
like to have Miss Austen ashamed of me. I 
shouldn’t like to have her think I didn’t 
look nice enough.” 

“ Neither should I like to have her think 
so ; and there is no need of my daughter’s 
looking shabby.” 


178 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

This closed the conversation, and the day 
wore on a little wearily. The warmth of 
the sun changed the entire appearance of 
the landscape. Where had been banks of 
snow, the water stood in pools, and at even- 
ing the walking was far from good. 

Nevertheless, the hall was well filled with 
an attentive audience. Edward Stuart read 
a chapter from the Bible without comment ; 
then a hymn,, in the singing of which many 
joined. Mr. Gleason offered a fervent 
prayer, and another hymn was sung. At its 
close all waited expectantly ; when Miss 
Austen repeated a passage which had been 
read, and in a few simple sentences enforced 
the doctrine taught. 

Many were moved, yet it was easy to see 
that they still waited for others before 
expressing their own feelings ; and not one 
in the room but knew who of all could 
exert the strongest influence. If religion 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL. 


179 


was the crowning glory of life, why should 
not Mr. Stuart acknowledge its power, and 
seek it for himself ? 

He felt the unspoken thoughts of those 
about him, and rising, at length, testified to 
his reverence for holy things, and his desire 
to live as God would have him. He did not 
talk of his sins, or express regret for the 
past. On the contrary, his whole soul 
seemed absorbed in contemplating the 
matchless power and goodness of the 
Almighty Father. 

Harold Dorsey next arose, and told of the 
strange happiness which had come to him, 
his beaming face far more eloquent than his 
broken words. In closing, he said, “ You 
see, I didn’t know much about God till after 
I came here. If I had, I should have prayed 
to him a great while ago. I’ve always 
wanted to find somebody to help me that 
knew every thing. At first, God seemed a 


1*0 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

great ways off, and I thought it couldn’t be 
he loved me. But now I know he does. I 
know he does, and I’m so happy ! I want 
you all to love him too. How can you help 
it ? ” 

One and another responded to this simple 
appeal, while Richmond Elliot sat with 
bowed head. His heart was full of hatred. 
At that moment he would have dethroned 
the Sovereign of the world, and experienced 
a savage joy that he was freed from all 
responsibility. He had been silent even 
when others were singing, but the jubilant 
strains of “ Coronation ” could not bo 
resisted. 

“ I wish I had something of your faith. I 
believe there is a God, but to me he is only 
an avenging judge. I have no love for 
him.” 

He had not intended to speak. He won- 
dered at himself, and felt keenly the rebuke, 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL . 


181 


when Harold Dorsey said with pathetic ear- 
nestness, 44 O Mr. Elliot ! the reason you 
don’t love God is because you don’t know 
about him.” 

A hush followed this remark, broken at 
last by the voice of prayer. Then, as the 
meeting was about to close, Richmond 
Elliot went forward where he could be seen 
by every person in the hall, and acknowl- 
edged that his scepticism and irreligion had 
been all wrong. No one should look to 
him for an example of consistent living. 
He was trying to do better than he had done 
in previous years, but his heart was not 
right. He hoped he should attain to greater 
purity in the future, and begged that he 
might not be a stumbling-block in the way 
of others. 

Jessie almost held her breath as she lis- 
tened; trembling, and yet rejoicing. She 
hastened home, and, when her father joined 


1<S2 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

her, she comprehended at once that it was 
no time to speak of what had transpired. 
The next morning she carefully refrained 
from any allusion to the events of the even- 
ing, and was left alone with all her thoughts 
unexpressed. 

The weather was much warmer ; and her 
father went to the sugar-camp, where he 
was met by Harold, who gave him a hearty 
greeting. 

“ What new discovery have you made this 
morning?” he asked, in order to forestall 
any questions or comments which might be 
unwelcome. 

“ I’ve not made much of a discovery,” 
was replied ; and the most casual observer 
would have detected the disappointment 
there was no effort to conceal. Yet soon 
ifter Harold said pleasantly, “ I came across 
a place where a flock of little birds had 
roosted through the storm.” 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL. 


183 


66 Where was it ? ” 

“ On the lowest branches of a spruce- 
tree ; so near to the ground, and so well 
sheltered, that the wind couldn’t touch 
them, nor the hawks either. The checker- 
berry leaves round there were all notched 
where the birds had picked them, but I 
don’t think they generally eat such leaves. 
They must have been hungry, poor little 
things ! I pity any thing that is hungry.” 

“ Were you ever really hungry, yourself? ” 

“ Yes, I have been. I got lost once in the 
woods, and wandered round till I was very 
hungry.” 

“ I don’t see why you should do that. 
Anybody as well used to the woods as you 
are ought to be able to find something to 
eat. I hardly ever saw the time when I 
couldn’t.” 

“ But I was only ten years old then, and I 
was so anxious to find my way out that I 


184 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

forgot about eating, till it was so dark I 
couldn’t go any farther. Then I broke 
down some hemlock-boughs, and made a bed, 
and went to sleep.” 

“ You were not afraid.” 

“No, not after I’d made up my mind that 
I’d got to stay out all night. Grandsir didn’t 
allow me to be afraid of any thing only diso- 
beying him. If I’d only known about God 
then, I should felt a good deal better ; but I 
slept, and, when I waked in the morning, I 
saw the twin trees, and knew where I was.” 
“ What were the twin trees ? ” 

“ Two maples, fastened together by a 
branch that looked like a round bar. They 
were just of a size, and the tops were just 
the same shape. When I saw them, that 
morning, I was so glad I cried. I was only 
about a mile from home, and, if I had kept 
on a little while longer, I should have been 
all right.” 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL. 


185 


“ Why didn’t you climb a tree, and see 
where the sun was ? ” 

“ Because I didn’t know about it ; and, if 
I had, perhaps I couldn’t have told the way 
any better. Grandsir didn’t expect me to 
get lost, so he hadn’t told me what to do.” 

“ Did he tell you after that ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; but he blamed me for not 
knowing without being told ; and he didn’t 
give me any thing to eat till dinner-time. 
Oh! I wanted a mother then, and I’ve 
wanted one ever since.” 

“ Mrs. Peavy is a good mother to you 
now ? ” 

“Yes, sir; but I don’t think my own 
mother was much like her. I should like a 
mother like Miss Austen.” 

“ I wish you had such a woman for your 
mother, Harold ; but, as you haven’t, it is a 
great blessing to have her for a friend.” 

“ I know it is ; and I’ve so many friends, it 


186 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

makes me glad. I didn’t know how it 
would seem to have so many. I think I’m 
just beginning to live.” 

“ You have lived sixteen years.” 

“ In one way I have, Mr. Elliot ; but 
think how different it was from the way 
most boys live. Never to read the Bible, 
and never to love God, or really know any 
thing about him. I don’t call that half liv- 
ing ; do you? ” 

« “ That’s the way I’ve lived, Harold.” 

" Well, I wonder at you. Why, I used to 
think you knew most every thing. Grand- 
sir said you was a good scholar. You used 
to talk about things I didn’t understand.” 

“ Yes, your grandsir was a very fine 
scholar. He must some time have lived dif- 
ferently from what he did when I knew 
him.” 

“ I guess he did, but I can’t understand 
what made him do so. I wish I did ; ” and 


THE niDDEN WATERFALL. 


187 


a perplexed, troubled look stole over the face 
of the speaker. “ After all, it don’t make 
much difference to me now,” he added with 
a sigh of relief. “ I’ve started right at last.” 

“ I believe you have, Harold, and I am 
very glad. Now let us start our day’s work. 
We’ll see that the buckets are all right; and 
then we’ll sit by the fire, and make ourselves 
comfortable. Did you bring a book with 
you?” 

“ No, sir ; I don’t think the working hours 
belong to me, and, if I had a book, I might 
keep at it too long. I study every night, 
and yesterday I read a good deal when I was 
at home.” 

“Did you go to church ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; but I didn’t like it as well as I 
do our own meeting.” 

Mr. Elliot was gone before his question 
was answered ; and soon he was separated 
from his young friend by quite a long dis- 


188 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

tance. It was no easy task to make one’s 
way through, the soft snow, yielding as it 
did at every step ; but each tree was visited, 
while the consequent fatigue forbade all 
thought of other interests. When they met 
again it was nearly noon. 

“ Most time for pork and potatoes,” said 
the master of ceremonies. “We may as 
well have dinner in good season. We shall 
have a big run of sap this afternoon. 1 11 
make the coffee, and stow away the potatoes, 
and you can broil the pork. You do that 
better than I can, and I want a good dinner 
to-day. Our tin plates, and knives and 
forks, will come in use ; and I shouldn’t 
wonder if we had company to eat with us. 
Robert talked of coming, and I told him if 
he did to bring some dishes with him. 
There he is. I can hear his whistle. — Hal- 
loo ! ” 

Another halloo was heard in response, and 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL. 


189 


presently Robert Bumstead appeared shout- 
ing at the top of his voice, — 

u I hope you are glad to see me, Harold.” 

“ I am. You are very welcome, and in 
time for dinner.” 

“ I thought I should be, though I stopped 
on the way. Come through the woods, 
every step from the corner, and kept my 
eyes open to see what I could see. I put my 
ear down to the ground, one place I 
thought I could hear water running ; and I 
could hear it plain, just like a little water- 
fall. It was right under an old stump, and 
I staid there ever so long. So if anybody 
wants to find a new supply of water, there’s 
a chance. I tracked it a few rods, and then 
lost it: so it must be that it goes down 
deeper in the ground.” 

“ Why, Mr. Elliot, aint the ground solid ? ” 
“ Think a minute, Harold, and you can 
answer your own question. I remember, 


190 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

not far from your old home, quite a stream 
of water that disappeared between two 
rocks which had evidently once belonged 
together. Somewhere, there must have been 
an underground lake or pond, and I presume 
there are more such bodies of water than we 
imagine. When a ledge is opened, large 
fissures are often found filled with water ; 
and often, too, this water acts as an explo- 
sive force, rending the rock asunder.” 

“ How can it? ” 

u By freezing. You know that water 
expands in freezing, and in order to make 
room for it the solid rock must give way. 
[t takes severe weather to do this unless the 
water is near the surface ; but in a hundred 
years there’s a good deal of this kind of 
work done. Nature’s workmen never rest 
from their labors. Changes are constantly 
going on around us. Creation is not yet 
accomplished.” 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL. 


191 


“ Then you don’t believe that every thing 
was created in the beginning just as it is 
now.” 

“ Of course I don’t. I know it was not. 
Take a piece of waste land anywhere, and 
see how it will change in ten years, even if 
no human being sets a foot upon it. Birds 
will fly over it, leaving here and there a seed 
gathered perhaps miles away ; and some one 
of these seeds, if not more, will germinate, 
so giving a new growth. Then the wind 
will bring the winged seeds of trees, and 
some animal may choose to make his winter 
storehouse in your waste piece of land ; and 
some rejected nut throw out a footstalk that 
will fasten it securely, and draw up the 
nourishment necessary for the growth of a 
tree. The wind, too, may make a drift of 
sand, while there may be stones gradually 
pulverizing to give a new element to the 
soil.” 


192 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ But, Mr. Elliot, all that wouldn’t make 
any great difference, so but what you d know 
the place well enough. There’d be some 
little trees started, and some mole-hills, 
perhaps, but they wouldn’t amount to 
much.” 

“ Perhaps not; but multiply the change by 
ten, twenty, or a hundred, and then see 
what you would have. By that time trees 
would fall and decay ; moss and vines would 
grow over them ; and it might be that other 
vigorous trees would take root where these 
had fallen.” 

a I suppose all that might be, but the hills 
stand all the same.” 

“ A continual dropping will wear a stone, 
and exposure to the elements tells even 
upon the hardest granite. Land-slides occur 
which entirely change the face of a hill or 
mountain ; and not a shower falls without 
making some impression. Look through the 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL . 193 

woods here. The roots of the trees hold the 
soil pretty firmly, but some is washed away 
every year. Dead leaves and branches 
accumulate until in some places hollows are 
filled up, and in others hillocks are formed. 
You will recognize the hill in fifty years 
from this time, if you should see it then, but 
it will not look just as it does now.” 

“ I know it wouldn’t, now I think of it, 
but I didn’t think before. Mother says a 
rubbish-heap grows faster than any thing else, 
and I suppose it grows as fast in the woods 
as anywhere else. There’s always some- 
thing coming to it, and seeds fly with the 
wind.” 

“ That’s true,” said Harold. “ And then 
there’s another thing. All the rivers 
and brooks carry dirt from one place to 
another. A piece of the bank will crumble 
off, and some of it sink straight to the 
bottom, but it don’t all sink. I’ve seen, at 


13 


194 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

home, where it lodged against an old stamp 
till it turned the course of the brook. 
There was just as much water : so it had to 
run on the other side, and take off a piece of 
that bank. Grandsir told me that the ocean 
does the same thing, only on a larger scale. 
He said the waves, bring a great deal to the 
land, and take away a great deal ; and some- 
times they take from one country and give 
to another.” 

“ Yes, the ocean is constantly changing 
the outline of continents and islands ; and 
that is what I mean by saying that the work 
of creation is still going on.” 

“ But, Mr. Elliot, to create means to make 
something out of nothing ; and all the water 
in the world couldn’t do that, could it? 

“No, I don’t suppose it could,” was 
replied hesitatingly by the man who was 
thus again confronted with an unwelcome 
truth. 


THE HIDDEN WATERFALL. 


195 


“ The material is all second-hand, Mr, 
Elliot. God made it in the first place.” 

“It must be he did, Harold. Some time 
we will talk more about this. One word 
leads to a great many.” 

“ So it does,” rejoined Robert. “ Who 
would have thought that my stopping to 
listen to the water under ground would have 
started us off on such a track ? Every thing 
leads to something else ; and when you begin 
to think, and ask questions, there don’t seem 
to be any end. But what a grand place this 
is any way ! I want to go all round. I 
want to see the mother-tree Jessie told me 
about, and get some lichen for Miss Austen. 
She wants some. I don’t know as I can find 
any berries, can I ? ” 

“ Not many, I guess. The birds have 
been picking berries since Jessie was here.” 

“ But the snow covered them.” 

“And the birds know how to uncovei 


196 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

them. I saw a flock of birds, yesterday, 
scratching like chickens; and they must have 
known what they were about, for they were 
at a spot where some short grass had gone to 
seed. I went to it after they’d gone, and it 
was a good feeding ground for them.” 

“ I didn’t know birds ever scratched that 
way.” 

“ I didn’t either. I never noticed them 
scratching before. But I’ve been careless. 
I didn’t half see what I was looking at ; and 
I guess that’s the difference in folks about 
learning.” 

“That is just the difference, boys. It 
pays to cultivate habits of close observation, 
and to have your thoughts well defined. 
Careless seeing and careless thinking usually 
go together.” 



CHAPTER XI. 


OUT OF DOORS. 


^ CONVERSATION drifted to more 
personal subjects ; dinner was pre- 
pared and eaten, after which the 
boys went away by themselves, talking ear- 
nestly as they walked, or lingered by some 
object of interest. 

“Aint Mr. Elliot ever so different from 
what he used to be ? ” at length asked 
Robert. 

“ Yes, else he wouldn’t said what he did 
last night at the meeting. It’s strange, when 
he knows so much, he shouldn’t know about 
the Bible. He don’t ever read it unless he 


197 



198 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

does lately. I think it’s a grand book ; don’t 
you, Robert?” 

“ Yes, though I’ve only just begun to read 
it much.” 

“Why, didn’t your father and mother 
want you to ? ” 

“ They didn’t care, I think. They didn’t 
read it, so I didn’t. Where we lived, folks 
didn’t go to church much, and we didn’t go 
at all. Mother and I used to go into the 
woods sometimes, Sunday, - and she let me 
look round while she rested. She always 
heard me read more Sunday ; but father 
didn’t make any difference between that and 
other days. He has changed too : we have 
all changed ; ” and, lifting his cap, he 
threaded his fingers through a mass of wavy 
hair. “ The mill hands know it, and mother 
says it's going to be the making of Austen - 
ville. She says Miss Austen and Mr. Stuart 
wouldn’t be like what they are if they wa’n’t 
Christians.” 


OUT OF DOORS. 


199 


“ That’s what Mr. and Mrs. Peavy say , 
and I think it’s being Christians makes them 
so good.” 

“ Likely it is, Harold ; but it’s not that 
makes the mistress know so much. He that 
used to be master here knew just the same, 
only about God. He didn’t mind Sundays, 
but he minded other things. Say, Harold, 
are you a Christian ? ” 

“ Yes, if I know what it means to be a 
Christian. Mr. Peavy says it’s loving God 
and the Saviour, and trying to do right. It’s 
something more, too, but I can’t explain it. 
There’s having your heart changed so every 
thing seems different from what it did 
before ; and that’s the way ’tis with me.” 

“ Are you sure ? ” 

“ Yes, sure ; ” and the lips which uttered 
these words were wreathed with smiles. 
“ There’s something in my heart now, like 
the song of a bird when the sun shines out 
after a storm,” 


200 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ I’m glad for you, Harold. I wish I felt 
bo, but I don’t, though I’m trying to do 
right. We aint alike.” 

“ No, you’re better off than I be. You’ve 
had a great deal different home, and you’ve 
had a chance to study when I hadn’t. I’ve 
lived most out doors.” 

“ And didn’t you like it ? ” 

“ I didn’t know any other way. Grandsir 
went with me part of the time ; but he didn’t 
talk much, only to tell me what he wanted 
me to do. When I went alone I used to 
watch every thing I saw moving, and that 
made me know better how to catch them. 
That was what I wanted to know.” 

“ I suppose so, but it seems almost wicked 
to take advantage of the poor things when 
they can’t help themselves.” 

“ I don’t think it was, because that was 
our way of living. Grandsir sold the pelts, 
and bought what we needed ; and I never 


OUT OF DOORS. 201 

caught even a fish, unless we wanted it 
for something, any more than I do now.” 

44 What kind of animals did you catch ? ” 
44 Coons, and rabbits, and muskrats, and 
minks. I didn’t catch so many minks, but I 
always set traps for them. Sometimes I 
caught a fox, and sometimes a marten. 
Once we caught a bear. I saw where he’d 
been scratching some trees to sharpen his 
claws, as folks say bears do, and I saw the 
tracks he’d made on his way to a cornfield : 
so I was sure of him. Grandsir helped me 
fix the trap.” 

44 How did you make it ? ” 

44 We made it of logs, a clumsy figure 
four ; and then, to be sure of the bear, we 
dug a good-sized pit and covered it with 
spruce-boughs. So down he went, logs and 
all ; but he tried hard to get away, and, if he 
hadn’t been hurt so bad, I don’t know but 
he would. He was a heavy fellow. Grand- 


202 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

sir got a bounty for killing him, besides what 
he sold him for; and somebody killed his 
mate the other side of the woods.” 

“ I wish I could see a bear in the woods 
where he belongs ! ” exclaimed Robert, look- 
ing at his companion admiringly. “ I’ve 
read a good deal about bears, but I should 
know more if I could see them at home. It 
don’t amount to much to look at them in a 
cage.” 

“ I shouldn’t think it would. But I 
suppose somebody has told all about them in 
some book. I didn’t have any book to learn 
it from : so I asked grandsir a good many 
questions. He told me about polar bears and 
grizzly bears. They are different from what 
live here, though he said they all liked pretty 
much the same kind of food. They all like 
sweet things. They’ll find a tree or rock 
where there’s wild honey tetter than any 
man can.” 


OUT OF DOORS. 


203 


“ I should think they’d get stung.” 

“ They do, but they want the honey so 
much they’re ready to run the risk. They 
get along very well if the bees don’t get into 
their eyes and nose. Then they roll over, 
and paw round terribly ; but they don’t give 
up till they’re satisfied. Once a man came 
to our house who didn’t do any thing but 
hunt and trap, and fish; and he told more 
about wild critturs, as he called them, than T 
ever heard before. He said he’d lived with 
them a good many years, so he knew their 
ways. I could set and heard him tell stories 
all night if grandsir hadn’t sent me to bed. 
If he only knew how, he could make a book 
you’d like to read ; but he said he never’d 
read a dozen books in all his life. His father 
and mother lived in Canada somewhere, and 
they died when he was ten years old. After 
that he had to take care of himself. Grand- 
sir said he was naturally smart, but he was 


204 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

strange. He never’d been into the States 
many times, and he didn’t like to get far 
away from the woods. That was the only 
home he knew any thing about ; and he told 
me how to do if I was caught out over night. 
He said he should like to have me camp with 
him.” 

“ Did he tell you lots of stories ? ” 

“ Yes, he did, and some about animals that 
don’t live in this country. A man who was 
a great scholar had found him in the woods, 
and staid with him part of one summer, so 
to find out what he knew ; and he learnt a 
good deal as well as the man. You’d like to 
hear him talk. He used outlandish words, 
such as grandsir didn’t allow me to ; but for 
all that he’d keep you awake when you’d 
thought you was sleepy.” 

u I wish you’d tell me the stories he told 
you. Don’t you remember them ? ” 

“ Yes, I remember every thing. I should 


OUT OF DOORS. 


205 


then, too, more than I do now when so much 
happens. Sometimes for a whole week I 
wouldn’t see anybody but grandsir, and he 
wouldn’t speak to me only when he couldn’t 
help it. I can’t stop to tell you the stories 
now, but I will some time. Here we are at 
the mother-tree. Look up. It aint so 
handsome as it is in the morning when it’s 
wet, but here’s the lichen all the same. Jes- 
sie says that’s what we ought to call it.” 

“ Miss Austen told her, and she told us 
about the Spanish moss that grows on the 
trees down South. That is different from 
this, but it hangs down from the trees the 
same way. That has bark on it, and inside 
the bark is a stem that is used instead of 
hair for stuffing mattresses and cushions. It 
has flowers, though not large ones. This 
lichen don’t hare any.” 

“ No, I guess not. I never saw any thing 
different from what there is here. I used to 


206 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

call the little disks saucers, but Mr. Elliot 
told me better than that. This is covered 
thick with disks. You can get all you 
want. There’s an old stump up here that 
has red-headed moss on it, and the heads are 
a good deal larger than they generally are. 
Come and see it.” 

There it was ; an old stump which had 
been decaying for years, and yet would stand 
for years to come with scarcely a perceptible 
change. 

“ That’s splendid,” said Robert. “ I won- 
der Jessie didn’t tell me about it.” 

“ She don’t know about it,” was replied. 
“ You see, it stands here by itself, and she 
didn’t come so far this way. I didn’t either 
till the last day we were here before the 
storm.” 

“ Well, I’m glad you found it ; but what 
you call moss is lichen, and the name of it is 
cladonia. Miss Austen says there are differ* 


OUT OF DOORS. 


207 


ent varieties of lichens, the same as there are 
of flowers, and each one has a name. I 
found some like this on an old board the 
other day, and she said it was cladonia . That 
green down there is real moss. Miss Austen 
says she don’t know so much as she ought to 
about mosses and lichens, and she is going to 
learn. Now, what else have you got to show 
me up here ? ” 

“ Not much, perhaps, that you’ll care for. 
There are some holes in the trees where the 
woodpeckers had their nests last year, or 
some other time. I’ve seen a good many 
here ; and in the north-west part of the woods 
there are half a dozen crows’-nests in the 
tops of the old hemlock-trees. Then I’ve 
seen a hole half way up a hollow tree, where 
I guess some owls have had a nest.” 

“ Have you found a hawk’s nest ? ” 

“ Not that I’m sure of, though I mean to 
keep a good lookout round a tree there is 


208 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

farther east than we he. Grandsir told me 
to rob all the hawks’ and crows’ nests I 
could find, and I do. I don’t have any pity 
on the ugly birds.” 

“ No more do I. Don’t you find any ani- 
mals here ? ” 

“Yes, squirrels and rabbits, and likely 
there are other creatures that haint showed 
themselves yet. There’s a bright-eyed fel- 
low cracking a nut in that tree. beyond the 
spring. He’s watching us, ready to start 
the minute he suspects danger. He must 
have his winter-quarters not far off. Last 
year was a good one for the squirrels. There 
were plenty of beech-nuts and acorns. I’ve 
seen the squirrels when ’twas hard work for 
them to get enough to eat, and I wouldn’t 
kill them then, any more than I’d steal their 
nuts. They’ve a right to live unless they do 
too much mischief, or killing them will do 
somebody some good. I’ve killed a good 


OUT OF DOORS. 


209 


many since I came to Mr. Peavy’s, because 
we wanted them to eat.” ' 

“ You’ve helped the old folks, Harold.” 

“ I hope so. They’ve helped me. They 
took me in when I was a stranger,' and 
they’ve been good to me every day. You 
don’t know what it is to me to have such a 
home, where there’s somebody to be glad 
when I go into the house. They say they’re 
glad too, and that’s what makes it seem so 
much. Grandsir never said so. I used to 
wish he would, but he didn’t.” 

Harold was in a more communicative 
mood than Robert had ever seen him, and 
the latter intentionally prolonged their walk 
until they found some well-filled buckets 
requiring to be emptied. The sap from the 
trees farthest up on the hill was carried in 
rude troughs to a holder prepared to re- 
ceive it ; thus saving much hard labor. 
The two talked of this arrangement, com- 


14 


210 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 


plimenting the man who had devised such a 
plan. 

Alone, Mr. Elliot found sufficient to em- 
ploy his time, restless though he was under 
the burden of thought he could not throw 
aside. He was glad, however, when the 
familiar sound notified him that hard work 
was to be done. Kettle and pans were filled, 
and the fires replenished. He remembered 
other days, when in some lonely camp he 
watched other fires, while in his breast there 
burned the fire of an appetite which over- 
mastered every noble impulse and pure de- 
sire. 




CHAPTER XII. 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 


[ OT long after this, when the moon was 
at its full, and a clear, cold atmosphere 
gave promise of improved walking as 
the evening advanced, Mr. Elliot and his 
daughter, with Robert Bumstead, went 
through the woods on their way to Mr. 
Peavy’s. 

It had been thought best to discontinue 
the society meetings before their interest 
began to flag; but, however this arrange- 
ment commended itself to the judgment of 
those best qualified to decide, there were 
those who regarded it as a great mistake. 

211 


212 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

Harold was more sorry than he cared to 
express, while Jessie secretly wondered that 
Miss Austen would ever consent to give up 
“ such nice meetings.” This visit, proposed 
by her father, was intended as some compen- 
sation for her disappointment. 

Norah Borine, too, was sadly disappointed, 
when, after having twice crowded herself 
into the smallest possible space in one corner 
of the hall to listen to what might be said, 
she was told there would be no further 
opportunity for so doing. 

“ I wish I hadn’t gone the twice,” she said 
almost angrily. “ It’s all the time some- 
thing coming to me I don’t know, and I 
wish I didn’t care.”' 

“ Why? Don’t you want to learn ? ” asked 
Jessie. 

“What’s the use?” was replied. “I 
can’t know it all, and I’m tired trying.” 

“ You’ve only just begun ; and every 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 213 

thing’s going to be beautiful now summer’s 
coming. Miss Greenleaf’s coming too. 
You’re sure to like her, and we’ll go to 
school together. Then we’ll go all over the 
woods and fields with her, and see how 
many flowers we can find.” 

“ You wont want me. Taint like you.” 

“ I know it. You’re a great deal prettier 
than I am ; but I don’t mind. I’m glad 
you’re pretty.” 

The two faces, now side by side, both 
winning and attractive, were yet strikingly 
unlike. No one would have called Jessie 
Elliot handsome ; while few could look upon 
her companion without yielding an involun- 
tary tribute of admiration to the dark-eyed 
beauty. 

“ I’m just black,” she exclaimed. “ And 
I’m a Catholic. Mother says there’s only us 
here, and the mistress hates Catholics.” 

“ She don’t hate anybody, Norah Borine. 


214 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

It’s wicked to hate, and she’s good. But 
what makes you Catholics ? ” 

“ I don’t know, and I don’t care. It’s our 
way, and nobody need be thinking we’ll be 
heretics. We’re as good as anybody if we 
be poor.” 

Jessie did not reply to this outburst. Her 
eyes seemed fixed on some object far away, 
as though she neither saw nor heard what 
was near to her. When she spoke, she said 
gently, “ I wish you’d come and stay with 
me to-morrow afternoon. I’ll get a nice 
supper, and we’ll have a good time. Per- 
haps you’ll make a picture, so I can learn 
how to make one too. Miss Austen says 
you have a genius for doing such things.” 

“ Did she say so ? Did she really say 
so ? ” was the eager response. 

“ Yes, she did. I shouldn’t tell you if she 
didn’t. She likes you, and I don’t see how 
you can help loving her.” 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING . 


215 


“ I don’t help it. What can I do? We’re 
poor, and must work. Sure, she’s a lady 
though, granny says. I’d like to please her. 
I’d give her a picture if I thought ” — 

Here she left the room, returning pres- 
ently with the result of her last effort in the 
blending of colors. 

“ Oh ! that’s almost prettier than any of 
Miss Greenleaf’s,” said Jessie, clapping her 
hands softly. “ How could you do it ? My 
vase is homely now.” 

“ No, it aint. I learnt from that, and I 
found this card in mother’s trunk. It’s all 
the one I’ve got.” 

“ I’m glad you can make such pretty 
things. You must put this up somewhere 
where everybody that comes in can see it.” 

“ Didn’t you give Miss Austen a vase ? ” 

“ Yes, one a good deal prettier than mine. 
It had prettier Jew’s-ears.” 

“ I’ve got pretty ones too,” responded 


216 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

Norah, as she displayed a basket filled with 
a great variety of this shell-like growth of 
fungus, the very name of which had so 
delighted her. 

“ Where did you find so many ? ” was 
asked at once. 

“ On stumps, and trees, and old boards. 
I want to know what makes them grow.” 

“I don’t know. You must ask Miss Aus- 
ten, or else wait for Miss Greenleaf. I 
never found such nice ones.” 

“ Mother thinks they’re pretty, and so 
does granny, though we never minded them 
till you showed me. They want you to 
come some evening when they’re here. 
Won’t you come to-morrow?” 

“ I would, but that’s the time to go to Mr. 
Peavy’s. I wish you’d go too. The old 
folks are nice, and Harold’s nice too.” 

“ No, he aint. That other big boy aint 
nice either. He took my bucket of water 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 


217 


and carried it for me. Sure, he’d no busi- 
ness. What made him ? ” 

“ He thought ’twas too heavy for you. 
He’s always lifting heavy things for me. 
He’s so strong he don’t mind.” 

“ I’m so strong I don’t mind too ; and I 
don’t want to go with you. I sha’n’t go to 
your house either, any more, till you come 
to see mother and granny.” 

“ I’ll come,” answered Jessie, apparently 
unheeding the tone in which this assertion 
was made. 

The next evening Robert caught a glimpse 
of Norah as he was passing her- mother’s 
rooms, and knew by the flashing of her eye 
that she was offended at his presumption. 

“ She’s just the strangest girl,” he half 
whispered to Jessie. “ Mother says she’s 
like a wild fawn, afraid of every thing ; but 
she’s able to help herself. I know that. 
I’ve seen her lift more than I could when I 


218 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON 

wa’n’t older than she is. She’s so small, too, 
she seems most like a baby.” 

“ She wouldn’t like to have you say that, 
Robert. I have to be ever so careful, and 
then I don’t please her. She wa’n’t even 
glad when Miss Austen sent her the maple 
sugar, though I know she liked it. Rut she 
won’t be so always. I’m glad Harold aint 
so.” 

“ I’m glad too ; but he was that strange at 
first, I couldn’t get on with him. I hope 
he’ll talk to-night.” 

It was not yet dark when the party 
reached the little cottage, where they were 
cordially welcomed. 

“ We’re having a late spring,” remarked 
their host. “ There’ll be a hard freeze to- 
night.” 

“ Yes, sir: there is every appearance of 
it, and that will give another run of sap.” 

“ Going to boil again ? ” 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 2l ( J 

u No, sir. We have suspended sugar- 
making for the season. Harold and I have 
other work on hand.” 

“ Going to do some building, I hear. 
Well, I’m glad to have folks prosper, and 
there aint no drawback now to that mill. I 
said that when I first heard how Miss 
Austen managed. She began right. I haint 
no doubt but she asked God to bless her 
in her undertaking, and that’s where her 
strength is. When our forefathers come to 
this country, and found what a cold, hard 
place ’twas, they’d had to give up if the 
Lord hadn’t been on their side ; and I’ve 
watched all through life to see how folks 
prospered, and I can see the hand of God 
in it all.” 

“ But the best people are not the most 
prosperous, Mr. Peavy.” 

“ Mr. Elliot, that depends on how you 
look at it. Now, I don’t suppose you’d call 


220 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

us poor old folks prosperous, but we be. 
We’ve always had comfortable shelter, and 
enough to eat and drink ; and when we was 
getting so we couldn’t get along without 
somebody younger and spryer than we be 
about the house, the Lord sent Harold to us ; 
and he’s the best boy ever I see, if I do say it 
to his face. It seems most strange that some- 
body else brought him up for us. I don’t 
know how long he’ll stay, but the One that 
sent him knows all about it.” 

“ I’m glad he came, though I didn’t know 
at first what to make of him,” said Jessie 
softly, thus breaking an awkward silence. 

“ I meant to do right,” responded Harold. 

“ You did. That wasn’t the matter,” was 
replied. 

“He’s a comfort every day. We’ve lived 
a good deal better all winter for having 
him here, and we’re better off this spring. 
We’ve had a good many good meals that he’s 

provided.” 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 


221 


“ I haint done much,” said the young man 
whom Mrs. Peavy praised in this hearty 
way. 

“ It’s much to us,” rejoined her husband. 
“ When I was a boy like him, I was strong 
as he is. I could work all day, and keep 
awake half the night, and then work the 
next day. I went into the woods whenever 
I could get a chance, and I should been glad 
if I could hunted all the time : but it wa’n’t 
often I got a chance. Harold and I’ve 
talked it all over a good many times, and he 
knows pretty much all the hunting I’ve ever 
done.” 

“ It might have lost its zest if you had 
done more. Boys often mistake in such cal- 
culations.” 

“ I know it, I know it ; and ’twas best 
for me that I was kept to work. I guess, 
after all, the men that earn their living in 
the woods don’t have no very easy time.” 


222 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ They don’t. They’re exposed to all 
weathers and all dangers ; and their work 
isn’t calculated to improve them much, 
mentally nor morally. Their senses of see- 
ing and hearing become very acute, and they 
learn to depend upon themselves ; but their 
lives are very narrow. A hunter’s life is 
a sort of hand-to-hand fight with animal 
strength or cunning. TIis whole study is to 
find out how he can outwit the creatures 
that trust to their instinct ; and instinct is 
often more than a match for man’s reason.” 

“ And the poor things need all the Lord 
gives them, Mr. Elliot. Seems as though 
one was made to live upon another all the 
way through. It’s always the strong taking 
the weak, and there’s provision made for 
every thing. I’ve watched our squirrels and 
rabbits ; and they’ve got so many enemies, 
the poor things have to be on the watch all 
the time.” 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING . 


223 


“ They have many enemies ; and the rab- 
bits especially are such timid creatures, they 
appeal to our sympathy more than some 
others.” 

“ What enemies have they, Mr. Elliot?” 
asked Robert, who knew little of the habits 
of animals, except what he had learned dur- 
ing the past winter. 

“ They vary somewhat with the locality,” 
was replied. “ But everywhere most flesh- 
eating animals will make a supper of a rab- 
bit if one is to be found. Here in New 
England, foxes, weasels, hawks, and owls are 
always on the lookout for rabbits. Then the 
lynx and other cat-like creatures devour 
them by thousands. They are used to bait 
traps ; and good bait they are too, as Harold 
knows by experience.” 

“I do ; and Mr. Baulder said he baited 
for lynx with them. ’Twas a rabbit’s head 
that the great white owl stole from my 
trap.” 


224 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ I’ve read that what we call rabbits here 
are really hares,” remarked Robert. 

“ I have read the same thing,” said Mr. 
Elliot. “ The first settlers called them rab- 
bits, and the name has clung to them. Hares 
are very generally distributed throughout 
the world, but they abound most in cold 
countries. No voyager has ever gone so 
far north that he didn’t see them ; and it is 
said that in the arctic regions they live with- 
out making burrows, so protected by their 
thick fur, that they are able to endure the 
most severe cold. The polar bears and foxes 
eat them in great numbers.” 

“ Is there much difference between hares 
and rabbits ? ” 

“ So much that one who has made 
natural history a study can see a marked 
difference ; but I am not able to explain it. 
It is well that rabbits have so many enemies. 
They would become a great pest. In an- 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 


225 


cient times, it is said there were so many in 
Spain that the country was completely over- 
run with them. The surface of the ground 
was so riddled with their burrows that it 
was worthless for cultivation. Then one of 
Nature’s provisions was made to do good ser- 
vice. Ferrets were imported from Africa to 
check their increase ; and in time the ground 
was reclaimed. Ferrets have a great antipa- 
thy to rabbits ; and in some places they are 
muzzled, and set to hunting.” 

“ What is a ferret, father ? ” 

“An animal something like the weasel, 
pole-cat, or foumart. We have the weasel 
in this country, but the foumart is found 
only in Europe and Western Asia. Its fur 
is known as the fitch-fur, and commands a 
good price in market. It is hunted for this, 
and besides, it is so generally hated that every 
man’s hand is against it. In England, where 
game is preserved, it makes great havoc 


226 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

among the pheasants and rabbits. There are 
strict laws against poaching, but four-footed 
poachers manage to evade the law ; though, 
when they are caught, their lives pay the 
penalty.” 

44 I always thought them laws was dread- 
ful wicked,” remarked Mr. Peavy. 44 What 
are poor folks going to do if they can’t take 
game where they find it ? ” 

44 Do without,” was the reply. 

44 And starve ? ” 

44 They do starve sometimes. But in this 
country game is free, and the man who can’t 
live here has himself to blame. Think, 
Harold, how it would be if snaring a rabbit 
or shooting a partridge was a crime. You 
couldn’t have lived in England as you did 
with Mr. Dorsey.” 

44 No, sir,” and the flush on Harold Dor- 
sey’s face betrayed his notice of the unfamil- 
iar title given to his childhood’s guardian. 


HUNflNG AND TRAPPING. 227 

“ Mr. Baulder couldn’t earn his living trap- 
ping either.” 

“Not unless lie owned a large tract of 
land, and then his living would be assured 
without any such effort. Tell us about him, 
Harold. I’ve heard you mention his name a 
good many times, but you never told me 
any thing particular about him. Did you 
ever see him more than once ? ” 

“ No, sir ; but he told grandsir perhaps 
he’d come again some time. ’Twas two 
years ago last summer he came.” 

“ Perhaps he’ll come again this summer, 
and not find you,” said Robert. “ He 
wouldn’t look for you here.” 

“No, he wouldn’t. I don’t think he’s a 
very good man, but I should like to see him 
again. He talked with grandsir about the 
English laws. They both knew about them, 
and he said he’d seen a man that was dread- 
fully punished for carrying home a rabbit 


228 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

when his wife was starving, and he swore 
when he said a rabbit’s life was worth more 
than a woman’s. He told me that our weasel 
was a good deal like the ermine that lives in 
Russia and Siberia.” 

“ Siberia’s the place where they send 
folks from Russia when they want to punish 
them, aint it? ” now asked Mrs. Peavy. 

“Yes, it is, and a dreadful place too,” 
replied Mr. Elliot. 

“ I thought so,” she responded. “ I never 
was no great of a reader ; but once I read the 
4 Exiles of Siberia,’ and I haint forgot it to 
this day. I thought ’twas all true, but some- 
body said ’twa’n’t nothing but a story.” 

“ It is a story, but it is very nearly true 
for all that. It gives a true picture of the life 
led by the exiles. Some times they are re- 
quired to furnish a certain number of sable 
or ermine skins ; and this is one of the most, 
dreadful punishments that can be inflicted 
upon them.” 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 


229 


“ But how can they if they don’t know 
how ? ” 

“ The government don’t trouble itself about 
that. If the ignorant hunter dies, there is 
only his family to mourn. But this punish- 
ment is only less cruel than being compelled 
to work in the mines. That is worst of 
all. Light and air, even if the light is dim 
and the air thick with frost, is better than 
being shut up in the bowels of the earth. 
But hunting in Siberia is bad enough for the 
inexperienced. The rough country is cov- 
ered with snow to a great depth in the win- 
ter, and the exiles are as ignorant of the 
habits of fur-bearing animals as they can be. 
They’ve no idea, either, how to make them- 
selves comfortable. Where Harold could 
live, and do a good business, they would die 
and do nothing.” 

“ I couldn’t do much there, Mr. Elliot. 1 
should be discouraged, and I can’t work 


230 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

when I’m discouraged. Perhaps Mr. Baui- 
der could. He traps what he calls ermine in 
Canada, but he don’t always have good luck. 
Something steals his bait or his game, and 
he’ll lose a week’s hard work. He trapped 
martens, and he could sell the skins for a 
good price ; but sometimes a wolverine would 
get on his track, and follow round from one 
trap to another. Then he’d find bait and 
game both gone. The wolverine eats the 
bait, but he don’t eat martens.” 

“ What did the man use for bait? ” 

“ A partridge’s head with the feathers on, 
and the trap is a long one. The wolverine 
is shy. He keeps close in the daytime, and 
travels in the night ; and when he can find 
a hunter’s path, he can get over a good deal 
of ground in a short time. It’s dreadful pro- 
voking, but men in the woods must expect 
such things. I remember Mr. Baulder said 
he should like to hunt sable in Siberia, and 


HUNTING AND TRAPPING. 231 

I thought then I should like to go with 
him.” 

“ Do you think so now, Harold ? ” 

“ No, sir. I want to learn all I can about 
animals, same as I do about every thing else ; 
but I think there’s something better to do 
than hunting them down and killing them.” 





CHAPTER XIII. 

BY FOREST AND LAKE. 

EW boys can resist the charm with 
which fancy invests a tale of life in 
the woods ; while many a girl has 
lamented the fate which debarred her from 
sharing its exciting pleasures. The well- 
knit frame, keen eye, steady nerve, and uner- 
ring shot are calculated to win admiration. 
Days whose dawn is heralded by the crack 
of a rifle, and whose close is marked by the 
hearty repast an epicure might envy, seem 
to bring only happiness. 

The long hours of waiting, the disappoint- 
ments and vexations, are all ignored. The 



282 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


driving storm, the pitiless cold, and possible 
accident or illness, are forgotten. 

In his old home, Harold Dorsey had listened 
to the adventures of one, who, knowing no 
other life than that by stream and forest, 
was therewith content. Strange experiences 
had come to this man ; and in his brief visit 
many of these were recounted. 

Knowing nothing of books, he had yet 
learned much from observation and occa- 
sional intercourse with others. Under favor- 
able circumstances he might have been an 
enthusiastic student of natural history : as it 
was, he noted the habits of animals, and 
made this knowledge subservient to his inter- 
ests. He had been present at the exhibition 
of several menageries of more or less preten- 
sions ; himself an object of as much attrac- 
tion to the ordinary visitor as, were the un 
tamed occupants of grated cages. 

Hr. Dorsey was an intelligent man ; and, 


234 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

although long secluded from the world, his 
conversation was instructive and entertaining. 
Taciturn, and often silent for hours when 
alone with Harold, with others he talked 
well and earnestly. 

Mr. Baulder knew something of Siberian 
hunting, but his host knew far more. He 
had no desire to encounter the more ferocious 
beasts in their native jungles. The dangers 
which must there be met, and the hardships 
which must be borne, made no appeal to him. 
It was far otherwise, however, when the 
northern fields were considered. The sable 
was akin to the marten which he had trapped 
with the most persevering industry. 

On the shores of the frozen sea, where 
winter holds its sternest sway, where, in the 
strange weird light, shadows assume gigantic 
proportions, the hunter pursues his prey, 
waking while others sleep, and making his 
way, at risk of life and limb, across extensive 


BY FOREST AND LAKE . 


235 


tracts of country, broken by concealed 
ravines and jagged stones. If a free man 
and successful, he thus gains food for himself 
and family. Sometimes also, by what is 
deemed a wondrous fortune in securing furs 
of choicest color and texture, he wins an 
independence. 

Eyes grew luminous as the picture was 
unfolded, and the wish was expressed which 
Harold had repeated. 

“ I should like to live in the woods a 
while,” said Robert. 

“ I’ve no doubt you would if every thing 
was made easy for you,” replied Mr. Elliot 
with a smile. “ You’re a good boy to work, 
and you’re quick to learn ; but you wouldn’t 
know what to do to begin with. In some 
places you might catch fish ; but you wouldn’t 
know how to cook it unless you had your 
mother’s spider along with you. Now, 
should you, Robert ? ” 


23G THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

u I could cook it in the ashes if I had a 
fire, and of course I should have a fire,” was 
responded good-naturedly. “ I could wrap 
it in paper, and roast it.” 

“ But if you had no paper ? ” 

“ Roll it up in some clean, sweet leaves as 
I’ve read of the Indians doing ; or else cover 
it up, and then take off the skin when I 
wanted to eat it. I could do something.” 

“ Yes, I guess you could ; but, if you ever 
try camping out, I advise you to take Harold 
with you.” 

“ Folks can learn how to make one thing 
do for another,” remarked Mrs. Peavey. 
“ They don’t have to so much as they used 
to, but ’taint as though they couldn’t. I’ve 
heard my mother say she made her own 
pearlash for a good while after she was mar- 
ried; and I’ve done it too. We didn’t have 
saleratus in them days, — not such folks as we 
were, — but we had to have something to 
lighten our cakes.” 


BY FOREST AND LAKE . 


237 


“ How did you get it ? ” asked Jessie. 

“We burned corn-cobs and saved the 
ashes. I’ve made good biscuit with them 
many a time. Folks can do without so many 
store things as they have now, and not starve 
neither ; just as anybody that’s strong and 
well can learn to live on what they pick up 
in the woods. The men and women that 
settled this country had to keep their eyes 
open, and their hands busy. I’ve pitied them 
a good many times.” 

‘•And well you may,” rejoined Mr. Elliot. 
“ In such lives as they led there is little time 
for mental improvement. The common 
people had but few books. I should be 
sorry to have my Jessie brought up with no 
more advantages than a poor man’s daughter 
could have then.” 

“ It’s likely you would ; but I guess folks 
didn’t think much about such things then. 
They couldn’t. When my grandsir and 


238 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

grandmam was married, they went right 
into the woods, and set up housekeeping in a 
log-cabin that hadn’t but one room. There 
wa’n’t much chinking, either, between the 
logs ; and one night, when grandmam waked 
up and opened her eyes, she see another pair 
of eyes looking straight at her through the 
logs. Come to find out, there was a wolf 
scratching away to get at her. He was out 
doors, and she was in the house ; but for all 
that they w‘ere pretty nigh together. I’ve 
heard grandmam tell of it a good many 
times.” 

“ Wa’n’t she dreadfully frightened?” 

“ I guess she was, child. Grandsir said 
she screamed so you might heard her a mile, 
though she want easy to scare. Wolves and 
bears were plenty in them days; wild-cats 
too ; and a man needed to know how to use 
a gun before he was fit to think of bringing 
up a family.” 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


239 


44 That’s true,” said the old man. 44 Game 
was plenty then, and folks had to depend 
upon it a good deal for a living. If they 
planted corn, there was the crows to pull it 
up to begin with ; and when it come to the 
ear, the bears and coons and squirrels were 
sure to get a large share. This part of the 
country was new then, and the bears made 
dreadful work in the cornfields. The wood- 
chucks took the beans, and the farmers had 
a hard time of it.” 

44 They must have had to fight all the 
time.” 

44 They did, and they brought up their 
boys to. The pig-pen had to be looked after 
pretty close, or there wouldn’t be any pork. 
Bears don’t object to eating pigs. To tell 
the truth, they’ll eat most any thing, though 
my grandmam used to say they didn’t like 
soap.” 

44 What made her say that, Mr. Peavy ? ” 


240 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ Well, you see, she treated one to soap, 
and she thought she knew about it. She 
was making soap one afternoon, when she 
heard something push the outside door open, 
and when she looked round she saw a big 
bear making for the cradle where her baby 
was asleep. She didn’t scream, nor faint 
away, but she threw a ladleful of boiling 
soap straight into his face and eyes. That 
made the crittur mad, and he turned his 
attention to her ; but his eyes smarted so he 
couldn’t see very well ; and before he could 
take his bearings she gave him another ladle- 
ful of soap. He was satisfied then, and 
blundered out of the house the best way he 
could. She could hear him growling and 
floundering round, but she just barred the 
door, and kept still till grandsir come, and 
then he started after the crittur. ’Twas 
easy tracking him. He’d run against most 
every thing ; and he’d laid down, and 1 oiled 


BY FOREST AND LAKE . 241 

over every few rods. He was tearing at his 
face when grandsir put him out of his 
misery, but he want worth so much as bears 
in general. He was poor, and the soap had 
pretty nigh spoiled his skin.” 

“ I should a good deal rather hear about 
such things than see them,” said Jessie. 
“Oh, dear ! how can folks live so?” 

“ They get used to it, and they keep on 
the watch without really knowing it. Such 
bears as are found in this part of the country 
are inoffensive animals compared with the 
grizzlies of the Far West, and the white bears 
of arctic regions.” 

“ I suppose they be, Mr. Elliot. I’ve heard 
a little about them grizzlies, and I shouldn’t 
want any thing to do with them. They 
belong to the Indians.” 

“But white men hunt them as success- 
fully as Indians. Our people are as brave as 
savages, and after a time they learn as much 


16 


242 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

caution. They can pick their way, too, as 
well and as stealthily if they’re brought up 
to it. That’s how the advantage is gained. 
No man can match himself with these ani- 
mals in a trial of mere strength. White 
bears can tear to pieces heaps of stone and 
ice that are frozen solid together, as easily as 
a boy can toss a football; and men have 
often lost provisions in this way, when they 
seemed as safe as if cased in iron. But, 
after all, the creatures must do their best to 
live, and take food where they can find it.” 

“ Yes, yes : the Lord made them for some 
use. I don’t know what ’tis ; but they’ve all 
got a place in his plan, from the smallest fly 
to the largest elephant. I suppose there’d 
be a gap if one was missing ; and sometimes, 
seems to me, the little ones are of the most 
consequence.” 

“ I have no doubt that they are : many of 
them play a very important part in the 
world’s history.” 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


243 


“ How can that be ? ” asked Harold ; but, 
before his question could be answered, a 
neighbor came in, and the conversation 
drifted to subjects more immediately prac- 
tical. 

“ Miss Austen’s going home, aint she?” 
was remarked. 

“Yes, she is, for a few weeks,” was the 
reply. 

“Well, I’m sorry. She brightens up 
things a good deal, when she’s round ; and 
the girls about here think she’s a pattern 
for them.” 

“ They can’t do better than take pattern 
by her,” said Mrs. Peavy. “ She aint no 
more set up with her money, than I be with- 
out any ; " and she’s capable anywhere she 
tries to do any thing. Strange how much 
she knows.” 

“ So ’tis. I never see no woman know so 
much before ; and that young Stuart’s smart 


244 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

too. Things are going all right to the 
mill.” 

“ Yes, as near right as they need to.” 

“ And them meetings, Sunday nights. 
Going to keep right along too?” 

“ I suppose they are.” 

“ Well, I didn’t know but they’d stop, 
same as the Thursday-night ones. Them 
meetings was the strangest I ever knew ; but 
they set folks to thinking.” 

“ Guess they did, Mr. Jones. They set me 
to thinking, old as I be. They was all about 
God’s works one way and another.” 

“ Yes, I suppose they was, though ’taint 
everybody would see it so. They say the 
men that are all the time studying such 
things aint the ones that think most about 
God. They say they don’t more’n half be- 
lieve there is any God, and they don’t 
want to hear nothing about One that 
made every living thing. You’re a scholar, 


BY FOREST AND LAKE . 


245 


Mr. Elliot, and likely you understand how 
’tis.” 

“ I believe the fact is very much as you 
have stated it,” was replied somewhat 
coldly. 

Well, it’s a pity. I don’t make no pre- 
tension to being a Christian, like Neighbor 
Peavy, but I like to see credit give where 
it belongs. It stands to reason that there’s 
somebody, somewhere, that set the world to 
running, and fitted it up just as he wanted 
to. I don’t see how anybody can dodge 
that ; do you ? ” 

“ Some people find it easy to do so.” 

“ Well, perhaps they do. Neighbor 
Peavy, what do you think about it ? ” 

“ I think we can’t look round out doors a 
single minute, without seeing something that 
ought to make us look straight up to God. 
We’ve been talking about animals to-night, 
and they’re all made different : but, you see, 


246 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

they’ve all got the qualities they need. 
Some are strong and clumsy ; and some that 
are weak are swift of foot, and cunning to 
hide themselves out of sight. Them that 
can’t fight to good advantage can run away. 
Now, there’s the fox : he’s a coward, but he’s 
a sharp-witted fellow, and knows how to 
keep a man at his heels all day without being 
caught.” 

“ That’s a fact. I’ve tried it myself when 
I was young. Old Mr. Bradford can tell 
you of a good many such days’ works.” 

“ He’s given up hunting, haint he ? ” 
asked Mrs. Peavy. 

“ He was out this last snow, his eightieth 
birthday, and caught a silver fox : the first 
he’s caught of that kind for ten years. He 
started off in the morning, and was gone all 
day.” 

“ That was smart for a man a year older 
than I am ; but he was always tough and 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


247 


wiry, not a pound of spare flesh on his 
bones ; and he’s lived out doors till he most 
belongs there. If you boys want to hear 
fox stories, just make him a visit. He 
hunted wolves, too, when he was young.” 

“ Does he keep a pack of hounds ? ” asked 
Mr. Elliot. 

44 He haint got but two now. They’re 
good ones though ; and, if any thing should 
happen to him, I haint no doubt but they’d 
find a way to help him. They’ll mind a 
snap of his fingers ; and, when he’s talking, 
they look at him as though they understood 
every word he said.” 

44 1 don’t doubt but what they do. Dogs 
know more than folks think for. When I 
was a boy, my father had a large brindled 
dog we thought most as much of as we did 
of one of the family. We called him Old 
Sam, and we never knew him to do any mis- 
chief ; but one of -our neighbors lost a good 


248 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

many sheep in a mountain pasture, and 
finally we see Old Sam coming from that 
way, and stopping at a brook as if to wash 
his chops. The man came over to our house 
and told his story, and made out a pretty 
strong case, though father didn’t quite 
believe it. 

“ The dog was there, hearing it all, and 
never stirring so much as one of his paws, 
till the neighbor said, 4 If you don’t shoot 
him, I shall.’ Then Old Sam went out of 
the house like a streak of lightning, and we 
couldn’t none of us call him up. He saved 
his life, but the man kept losing his sheep 
all the same. They found tracks where 
some kind of a crittur had been round, and 
sometimes it looked as though there’d been 
more of a fight than a sheep would engage 
in. Some said they was wolves, and some 
said they was dogs, though they couldn’t 
find out any thing certain, the tracks was sc 
queer. 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


‘249 


“ In about two weeks Old Sam came back 
just at daylight one morning, with his chops 
bloody, and his face dreadfully tore up. 
There was the marks of sharp teeth on his 
back and sides, and he acted as though he 
was most beat out. We knew he’d had hold 
of something besides sheep. He was so 
poor, we knew he’d been half starved ; but 
he wouldn’t eat. When father came in he 
whined like a baby, and looked up to him as 
though he wanted to speak. That was too 
much for father. He stooped, and put his 
hand on the dog’s head; and then you 
ought to have heard Old Sam beg for some- 
body to go off with him. We boys were 
ready as soon as we got ‘leave to start; and 
we followed as fast as we could, but the dog 
had to wait for us a good deal. 

“ At last we come to the pasture, and he 
kept straight on to one corner, the highest 
there was, where there was a brush fence 


250 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

piled up till you couldn’t tell whether the 
trees had been bio wed down or felled. 
There was the mischief ; but for a spell we 
couldn’t tell what ’twas, though Old Sam 
scratched and tore away at a great rate. 
Then he went to the other side of the fence 
where there was a great ledge of rocks that 
looked as though there’d been an earth- 
quake. We went over there too, but we 
couldn’t get no clew to the cause of the 
trouble. 

a We begun to hunt round the brush-heap 
again, and finally we found a hole large 
enough for a common-sized dog to go into. 
We tried it with a stick, and found it run 
along pretty nigh the ground. We heaved 
off the brush as much as we could ; and by 
this time Old Sam laid down as if he was 
satisfied that things was going about right, 
and he could afford to rest. 

“ Well, to make a long story short, we 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


251 


kept to work till we couldn’t go no further 
without help, and we’d made up our minds 
that we was on the sheep-killer’s track. 
Then I started home for father. I coaxed 
the dog to go with me, but ’twas much as I 
could do to get him there, he was so weak. 
Father didn’t need no hurrying when I told 
him what we’d seen ; and ’twa’n’t long before 
we was back to the pasture, with as many 
axes and shovels as we could carry. We 
stove up that heap of brush, and dug open 
the underground road till we found where it 
led to in the ledge. Now, boys, what do 
you suppose we found there ? ” 

“ A wolf,” answered Harold unhesitat- 
ingly. 

“ That was just what ’twas, youngster, — 
dead too, though he hadn’t been dead long. 
As nigh as we could calculate, he and Old 
Sam had had a fight where the ground 
was a good deal tore up under some light 


252 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

brush, where we didn’t notice it at first, and 
likely they’d held on till the dog couldn’t 
stand it no longer. Then the wolf could 
crawl back to his den, but he marked the 
way. 

“ An old man in the neighborhood said 
wolves didn’t commonly manage as this one 
did ; but you see he wa’n’t a common wolf. 
He’d lost his tail, and he hadn’t got but two 
feet. One leg was gone to above the knee, 
and the other to a little below it. It must 
been a hard job for him to walk ; but his 
teeth were all good, so we judged he wa’n’t 
very old.” 

“ But I don’t see how he could have kept 
on killing one sheep after another, and not 
left marks round so he could be followed 
up.” 

“ Well, I don’t think none strange of that. 
Father and the neighbors talked it over a 
good deal, and ’twa’n’t nothing but the cun- 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


253 


ning such critturs have that helped him. 
But then, you see, there was hiding-places 
under the brush, and likely he didn’t get out 
a great ways. The sheep would go up there 
when it come night because ’twas the high- 
est place they could get to ; and, if the 
truth was told, the man that owned them 
didn’t look after his stock as he ought 
to.” 

“ How did you account for the dog’s stay- 
ing away that fortnight ? ” 

“ He staid to watch the wolf, and kept 
hid when there was anybody round.” 

“ But you said his chops were bloody 
before he was accused of killing sheep.” 

“ Yes, but I don’t know how that come 
about. Maybe he had a tussle with the 
varmint, and come off worsted. Any way, 
1 never believed he’d kill a sheep. It took 
a good while to get him nursed up, but at 
last he got to be well and spry again ; and, if 


254 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

he didn’t understand the wolf story when he 
heard it told, I’m mistaken.” 

“ Somebody could tell you how that wolf 
lost his feet and his tail.” 

“ Yes, they could. We heard how he 
lost one foot. ’Twas in the spring of that 
same year. He was caught in a trap about 
twenty miles from our town, and he gnawed 
it off. ’Twas on the other side of a wide 
strip of woods ; and I most pitied the crittur, 
when I thought how much he must have un- 
dergone before he got to a stopping place.” 

“Well now, Mr. Jones, I can’t say I ever 
pitied a wolf. I want brought up to. 
They’re a bloodthirsty set, though when 
they’re hungry they must eat if they can get 
any thing.” 

“ That’s one view of the subject,” said 
Mr. Elliot. “ The other is, that man must 
protect himself against beasts of prey so far 
as he can.. In old times the people of Bos- 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 


255 


ton were obliged to fence in their cattle to 
save them from the wolves, and a bounty 
was paid for every wolf-skin brought to the 
proper officers. Now we seldom hear of 
them, except in the far North and West. 
But they serve some good purpose. They 
will run down foxes, and capture them with 
ease, besides ridding the country of a host 
of small quadrupeds.” 

“ What does quadruped mean, father ? ” 

“ An animal with four feet. You remem- 
ber Mr. Stuart told us last winter, that ani- 
mals are divided into classes.” 

“ Yes, I know he did ; but he didn’t go on, 
so we could learn all about it.” 

“ I wanted him to,” said Robert. 

“ You’ve learned something for yourself 
since then.” 

“ Yes, Mr. Elliot, I have. My natural 
history tells about the orders and classes. 
The dog and the wolf belong together, for 

all they’re so different.” 


256 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

Again Mr. Peavy spoke of the wonderful 
increase of knowledge in regard to those 
things, which in his boyhood had received 
little or no attention from the people by 
whom he was surrounded. 

“ It’s likely there was natural histories 
then, but I didn’t know nothing about 
them,” he said. “ I guess, though, boys was 
pretty much the same then they be now. 
I’d sit up any time to hear talk about horses 
and dogs and cats, — yes, and rats too,” 
added the old man, laughing as he remem- 
bered his experience in attempting to rid his 
father’s house of these troublesome vermin. 

“ Guess I’ll tell you about my rat scrape,” 
he continued. “ When I was a boy, I was 
always trying experiments ; and somebody 
told me that, if I’d serve a warning on the 
rats to leave, they’d all go off. So I made 
out a writing threatening them with death, 
and hid it in the garret where father kept 


BY FOREST AND LAKE . 257 

his corn. Now, I expected, just as much as 
could be, that there wouldn’t be no more 
trouble with rats ; but, instead of that, I got 
myself into a fine pickle. We had just as 
many rats, and one of my brothers found the 
warning, and read it to the whole family. I 
never heard the last of that as long as I see 
one of my brothers and sisters. A weasel came 
round after a while, and did up the job pretty 
quick.” 

“ Didn’t you keep a cat ? ” 

“ Yes, two or three. But some years 
the farmers were pretty nigh overrun with 
rats, spite of every thing they could do. 
They went from one house to another. One 
morning early, when there was a light snow 
on the ground, a woman that was going 
home after watching with a sick neighbor, 
see a drove of rats go away from a barn, and 
take a straight line to a house about a 
quarter of a mile off. She told what she see, 


1 7 


258 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

and there was others that went to look at 
the tracks ; and ’twa’n’t long before there 
was loud complaints from the house where 
they stopped.” 

From discussing the habits of rats, 
which, insignificant as the creatures may 
seem, often demand attention for economic 
reasons, the transition to their natural 
enemies was easily made. So the evening 
passed in desultory conversation, which yet 
returned again and again to subjects having 
a common basis. As surely, too, was the 
fact of God’s overruling providence kept 
constantly before the mind. 

When the guests were about to take their 
leave, Jessie whispered the request that 
there might be a chapter read from the Bible, 
and a prayer offered. “That would be 
almost like a meeting,” she said to Mrs. 
Peavy. 

“ Husband, hadn’t we better have prayers 


BY FOREST AND LAKE. 259 

before our friends go home ? ” then asked 
the good woman. 

“ Yes, wife, if they’ll stop,” was replied. 

Mr. Elliot, who was standing, resumed 
his seat ; and, as Harold begun to read, he 
listened with marked attention. 

As the reading was ended, the reader and 
the old man knelt. Jessie and Robert fol- 
lowing their example at once. A few words 
of prayer were uttered ; and then one, who 
since the days of his earliest childhood had 
never bowed the knee in token of his rever- 
ence for God, assumed the posture befitting 
those who make petition to the august Ruler 
of the universe. 

The priest of the household carried a 
burden upon his heart. Longing with an 
intense desire for the salvation of an immor- 
tal soul, he made known his wants so simply 
and lovingly, that the proudest scorner could 
have found no cause for anger : surely not 


260 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 


he who realized his guilt, and his need of for- 
giveness. 

“ I thank you for remembering me,” said 
Richmond Elliot clasping the hand of his 
host for a moment ; and without further 
ceremony he left the house. 




CHAPTER XIV. 

A RE-UNION. 

HERE was a family re-union in the old 
Austen home. No invitations had 
been issued, or arrangements made for 
such a meeting, and there was nothing of 
ceremony connected with it ; yet there were 
speeches in abundance, and such cheer as 
delights those who partake. Cousin Rachel 
must have had a presentiment of what was 
to come, else her store of good things would 
have failed to meet the demand. 

“I’m going to start for Aunt Margaret 
the minute school is done,” said Mason 
Stuart, as he refolded a tiny note received 



261 


262 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

only'the morning before her arrival. “ She 
promised to let me know the very day she 
was coming, and I mean to be the first one 
of the children to see her. I’m glad Rufe 
has got the last of that wood in. We had a 
hard job yesterday, but we were bound to 
finish up. Mr. Wilmarth said it was done 
in good shape too. Tell you what, mother, 
it’s a big thing for a boy like Rufe to earn 
so much money, and keep up with his class 
in school too. It makes me feel as though 
we were a shiftless set.” 

“ I don’t think we’re a bit shiftless ; do 
you, mother ? ” exclaimed Hester, looking up 
from a piece of worsted embroidery which 
had apparently engrossed her whole atten- 
tion. She had been the happy possessor of 
a well filled insect-case for the last six 
months ; and recently her busy brain had 
conceived the idea of duplicating it upon 
canvas. Where it was possible, she availed 


A RE-UNION. 


263 


herself of patterns. Where this could not be 
done, she traced the outlines herself, and 
carefully copied each mark and line of the 
original ; often failing to reproduce the gleam 
of gold and green, yet always evincing rare 
skill and taste. The brightest of colors 
were mingled with the most sombre ; all 
standing out clear and distinct from the 
white ground with which they contrasted. 

64 1 don’t think we’re a bit shiftless,” she 
continued. 44 You ask Aunt Comfort what 
she thinks. Only yesterday you said Lilia 
and I knew the most of any girls of our 
age you ever saw.” This last was said tri- 
umphantly ; and, with a toss of her shapely 
head, the busy worker threaded her needle 
anew. 

44 1 was comparing ourselves with Rufe, 
and you can’t say but what he does more 
than we do,” was the quick response. 44 He 
worked twelve hours, day before yesterday, 


2G4 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

and then studied till he went to sleep over 
his book. You never did as much as that, 
nor I either.” 

“ 1 kn ow it, but I’m not shiftless. That’s 
a dreadful word. I’d rather be most any 
thing than that. That’s what Aunt Comfort 
calls folks when they go round with ragged 
dresses, and holes in the heels of their 
stockings ; and I don’t do so.” 

“ No, you don’t, Hester ; but, if it come to 
earning money, you’d find you couldn’t do 
much. You couldn’t earn it making worsted 
butterflies.” 

“ You don’t know that certain. Perhaps 
I could. Everybody don’t do the same thing. 
Besides, you can’t tell what folks can do till 
they try. You didn’t suppose Edward could 
work same as he does.” 

“ N< b I didn’t ; that’s a fact. He’s done 
well, and I’m proud of him; though there 
can’t anybody make me believe he could have 
done it without Aunt Margaret.” 


A RE-UNION. 


265 


“I don’t suppose he could; but there’s 
always something or somebody to help. 
Aunt Margaret helps you.” 

“ And don’t I always say so ? I aint much 
if you take me all alone. Your butterflies and 
bugs are nice enough. Aunt Margaret will 
be sure to say you’ve improved since she 
went away. I hope I sha’n’t forget to walk 
without limping this afternoon. When I’m 
in a hurry, I hitch along in pretty bad shape. 
You give me a pinch, will you, Hester, if you 
see me at it ? ” 

“Yes, I will. I won’t pinch hard though. 
I gained half an hour this morning.” 

“And I too,” chimed in Lilia, who was as 
busy with flowers as was her sister with bugs. 

“ Good for you both,” shouted Mason. 
“ It’s a fact that we’re getting to be a re- 
markable family, — Madge and Clarke too, 
as well as we three. Nellie says Clarke im- 
proves every day ; and she ought to know : 
she sees him often enough.” 


266 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ I believe my children are all doing well,” 
said Mrs. Stnart, smiling. “ They are a great 
comfort to me.” 

“ Then we’re prospering, too, mother. 
When Aunt Margaret comes, you see if you 
don’t feel more than half glad you lost that 
money. I always was glad. It’s been the 
making of Ed and Clarke. Now I must find 
out if Aunt Comfort wants me to do any 
thing for her before I go to school. Com- 
fort’s a queer name for a woman, ain’t it ? 
but she’s a comfort, any way, when a fellow 
does about right. When he don’t, he deserves 
to hear something about it.” 

As this same Aunt Comfort had been a 
fixture in Mrs. Stuart’s kitchen for the last 
ten years, it may be that she deserves a more 
formal introduction to my readers than she 
has yet received. Certain I am that Mason 
would have given a particular description of 
her to any one interested in the family who 


A RE-UNION. 


267 


had failed to meet her. He would have said 
that she looked “real good and motherly, 
and knew how to do all kinds of work ; that 
she always kept things nice, and didn’t want 
folks tracking mud oyer her clean floor.” 
This would have been the starting point from 
which he would have wandered in various 
directions 5 but it will suffice for me to say, 
that, having a large measure of Yankee thrift, 
she had patience with all imperfections save 
those which she designated by the general 
term “ shiftlessness.” 

“ Haint a single chore I want done,” she 
said in reply to the boy’s offer of assistance. 
“There aint so much work to do here as 
there used to be. If your Aunt Margaret 
and Edward have been malting money, we’ve 
been saving it ; and a penny saved is as good 
as two earned. Now don’t hurry to-day, and 
get so flustered you’ll miss your lessons. 
Perhaps you might gain an hour, and get dis- 


268 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

missed before school’s done. Ask your 
mother though.” 

This suggestion was received with marked 
demonstrations; and, because of it, Mason 
Stuart was first to welcome his aunt. Not a 
word was spoken as he bounded into the 
library, and threw his arms about her neck. 

“ Aunt Margie, I know I never loved you 
half so well before,” he said at length, when 
both kisses and tears had testified to his joy. 
“ It’s been dreadful lonesome without you.” 

“ And I have missed you too.” 

“ I’m glad of it. I didn’t know but you’d 
like Edward so well you’d think he’d answer 
for the whole of us.” 

“ He answers for one ; but he is not Mason, 
or Clarke, or Dick.” 

“ Well, now, you did say Dick, didn’t 
you ? I told Madge you would, and if I was 
in his place I never’d be called Richard in 
all my life. Dick means him y and Richard 


A RE-UNION . 


269 


means his father ; and they aren’t a bit more 
alike than they used to be. He’ll be round 
here in an hour or two with the rest of the 
children. I’ve got so much I want to say 
and hear, I don’t know where to begin. 
Can’t I go with you when you go back to 
Austenville? I want to camp out in the 
woods.” 

“Not very good weather for that,” re- 
sponded Miss Austen, as she pressed the 
two brown hands which lay in her own. 
“We have snow in the woods, and the 
ground would be a damp bed. When you 
have your summer vacation, you can live out 
of doors ; until then, school will be better 
for you than our woods and hills.” 

“ That settles my fate,” was then said 
somewhat ruefully ; but the cloud passed, 
when was added, “ I shall have two whole 
months vacation, and I’ll make the most of 
it. Did you know Dick was studying medi- 
cine, Margie ? ” 


270 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ I have not heard that he was.” 

44 Well, he don’t talk about it; but he has 
bought some books, and he recites to Dr. 
Gray. I caught him studying one day, and 
I told him he needn’t take the trouble to be 
so sly about it. It aint any thing to be 
ashamed of. I shouldn’t wonder if he made 
a good doctor.” 

44 And what profession have you chosen ? ” 

“I haven’t really chosen yet. I can’t 
quite make up my mind. Mother says 
there’s no hurry. You see, I’m not very old 
yet.” 

44 Not very,” replied his aunt, smiling at 
the gravity with which this was said, and 
yet secretly admiring his earnestness. 

“ I could do almost any thing I should 
set myself about,” he continued. 44 1 don’t 
think I shall go to college. Ed is the one 
who ought to go ; and, if he don’t, the rest of 
us better not. That’s what I think ; don’t 
you?” 


A RE- UN ION. 


271 


“ I am not sure that I do. By the time 
you are fitted for college, there will be more 
money in the family than there was when 
Edward decided to leave his books for a 
while.” 

“ I don’t doubt that : you’re going to 
make money up there like sluice.” 

“ How is that ? ” 

“ Well, as fast as you want to. I suppose 
it means that money will come pouring into 
your lap, the same as water runs through a 
sluiceway when it has a good head.” 

“ Money will never come to us like that. 
We expect to work for it; and we expect, 
too, that we shall some time meet with 
losses. Moreover, water does not run 
through a sluiceway unless circumstances are 
favorable ; so your comparison is hardly of 
the best.” 

“ I know it, but that’s the way some peo- 
ple talk ; and I’m a great deal more apt to 


272 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

learn the wrong way than the right. I only 
meant that you are likely to make a good 
deal of money.” 

“ I think we are, and we hope to do good 
with it.” 

“ Of course you will. You’re doing good 
all the time ; and there never any thing hap- 
pened in our family, half so well for us, as 
losing that ten thousand dollars. It would 
have been the ruin of Clarke, if he had kept 
on thinking he could have every thing he 
wanted without working for it. He is 
pretty particular now how he looks, but 
he’s not half so bad as he used to be. It has 
made a difference with the girls too. Aunt 
Comfort says they’re getting real handy 
about doing work.” 

“ I judged so from their letters ; but tell 
me about yourself. You wrote me that you 
had some business to talk over with me.” 

u Yes, auntie, I have,” was replied; and at 


A RE-UNION . 


273 


once he proceeded to speak of what most 
interested him, which, as might be sup- 
posed, concerned others rather than himself. 

The clock struck five, and soon after a 
bevy of young people were seen approaching 
the house. 

44 Now, Mason Stuart, it is just like you to 
get here before any of the rest of us ! ” ex- 
claimed Hester as he met them in the hall. 
44 You think Aunt Margie belongs all to 
you.” 

44 And to you too,” added a familiar voice 
which sent a thrill of gladness to every 
heart. 

J ust the same, only fairer and dearer for 
her long absence, Margaret Austen was 
escorted to the library by an admiring group. 
Then hardly had the confusion subsided, 
when Mrs. Stuart and Mrs. Fielding ap- 
peared ; the former looking more serenely 
happy than her sister had seen her since her 


18 


274 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON 

nusband’s death, while the face of the lat- 
cer wore even a more dejected expression 
chan usually characterized it. 

“ I believe you have grown younger while 
you have been away,” said Mrs. Fielding. 

I don’t know how it is that care never 
worries you. You must have a great deal 
there at Austenville. You are mistress.” 

“ Thart is what Mr. Bumstead calls me. 
But I have no cause to worry. I have en- 
joyed the winter.” 

“ I should know that by your looks and by 
what I have heard. I suppose you have 
reason to be, too, and I congratulate you. 
You have always been a happy woman;” and 
a sigh supplemented this assertion. 

Dick Fielding glanced at his mother pity- 
ingly. He knew something of her trials, 
and gave her his sympathy in largest measure. 

This was the family reunion. The even- 
ing was spent in free, glad interchange of 


A RE-UNION. 275 

thought and feeling. It was so pleasant to 
have the house open with Margaret as the 
ruling spirit, the pleasure could hardly be 
expressed. 

“ I do wish you would never go away 
again,” said Madge addressing her aunt. 

“ Then I guess you wouldn’t have much 
of a time next vacation,” rejoined Mason. 
“I didn’t see how we were going to get 
through the winter without Margie; but 
we did, and we got pretty well waked up 
too ; all because there was something going 
on where she was. Tell you what, auntie, 
we ve got notes about a good many things 
we never should have thought of, if it hadn’t 
been for your Thursday evening meetings in 
Austenville.” 

Mason s notes are most of them in 
Madge’s handwriting,” remarked Clarke. 

“ That’s true, and I’ve paid her for do- 
ing the writing. Besides, she was as 


276 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

much interested as I was. Weren’t you, 
Madge ? ” 

“ Yes, just as much. Mason is always 
willing to give as much as he receives.” 

“ Thank you for saying that, and I’m glad 
you know it. I want help pretty often, but 
I want to help other folks too. When Aunt 
Comfort sews on a patch for me, I do some- 
thing for her.” 

u She must work cheap, or you wouldn’t 
find time to do much for any one else. I’ve 
seen some elaborate patching in the last few 
months.” 

“Not so elaborate as some of your sen- 
tences,” was replied good-naturedly. “ I can’t 
afford to wear nice clothes about my work, 
and I don’t want to either. Mother isn’t as 
particular about it as she used to be, and I’m 
glad of that. You aren’t either, Clarke. 
Aunt Margie, I think there’s a prospect of 
Clarke’s being something besides a dandy. 


A RE-UNION. 


m 


He has promised to take care of the £ *:den 
this year. I’ve no doubt he’ll wear gloves, 
and leave the dirtiest part of the work for 
me ; but it will be a good deal if he does 
any thing.” 




CHAPTER XV. 

NARCOTICS. 

ANY hours were spent by Miss Austen 
and Dick Fielding in close counsel, 
when the young man’s interests were 
fully discussed. Having turned his thoughts 
to the study of medicine, he had decided to 
pursue it should circumstances prove favor- 
able. 

But his father was likely to object. The 
loss of the previous year, although inconsid- 
erable, had been felt ; and this, with agrow- 
ing dissatisfaction at having disposed of his 
claim upon Austenville, had a most unfortu- 
nate influence. The son was too loyal to 
278 



NARCOTICS . 


279 


betray any weakness which could be covered ; 
but the fact that he was expected to engage 
at once in some remunerative employment 
was well known. 

“ I think we are like trees, which need 
watching and tending to prevent our grow- 
ing gnarled and crooked,” said Dick to his 
aunt one day as they were resting, after hav- 
ing taken a general survey of orchard and 
nursery. “ You can bend a young tree in 
any direction you please. By and by, when 
the tree is old, you can break it more easily 
then you can bend it. It is so with children 
compared with the men and women they will 
be when they are grown up.” 

“ It is indeed. Some trees, springing up 
by the wayside from a chance seed, grow 
tall and straight and symmetrical. So some 
neglected children become noble men and 
women. But the reverse is usually true. 
Most of us need watchful care, and skilful 


280 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

training. Trees must be pruned also ; and 
so our characters need pruning. Habits are 
easily formed which require harsh treatment 
to eradicate.” 

44 Some children are taught bad habits. 
They are trained to deception and dishon- 
esty.” 

“More’s the pity. They must bear the 
punishment of their sins, while others bear 
the guilt.” 

“Yes; and, if others could only bear the 
punishment, the poor children would not be 
such objects of pity. They seem to me like 
the old yew-trees that were pruned in one 
direction, and extended in another, bent 
here, and twisted there, until they were 
made to assume the shape of dragons and 
other fabled monsters.” 

“Your comparison is a good one, Dick. 
The firm, hard wood of the yew, and the 
great age to which it attains, make it stand 


NARCOTICS. 


281 


for centuries, a monument to tJ skill of the 
gardener.” 

“ But it needs continued prwiing to keep 
its form unchanged.” 

“ I know it does ; and yet it never quite 
loses its first impress, any more than does a 
human soul. There was always a weird 
charm for me about the yew. I never read 
of one without thinking of ghosts and goblins. 
I used to sit and dream what stories the old 
English yews could tell if they would 
speak.” 

“ And what secrets of bird and beast and 
insect our forest-trees could reveal. It 
seems to me the most fascinating knowledge 
is hidden from us to try what manner of 
minds we have.” 

“ Yet Nature holds her secret in waiting.” 

“She does; and, as Mason says, if we 
only take a little trouble, we can find a bit 
of one thing, and a bit of another, till we 


282 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

have material for a nice piece of patchwork* 
Then, if we can put it together handsomely, 
we can make a good show in the world. He 
don’t like patchwork quilts ; but he thinks 
they’re a good deal better than no quilts at 
all.” 

“ Mason is not far from right. Our knowl- 
edge, at the best, is only a piece of patch- 
work. There are some exceptions to this, as 
when a person makes a specialty of one 
branch of science. Then he may fashion a 
web, pure and white, and of elaborate de- 
sign ; but it must needs be both short and 
narrow.” 

“ How well you said that, Aunt Margaret ! 
I shall not forget it. If I am to study medi- 
cine, I am sure my web will be but patch- 
work. Nothing will come amiss to me, from 
an analysis of the humblest weed to the 
most world renowed plant. I am inclined to 
believe that there is a remedy to every dis- 


NARCOTICS 


283 


ease, as well as an antidote to every poison. 
I have lately come across an old book, full 
of curious descriptions of medicinal plants 
and trees. Half of these descriptions must 
be false; but for all that they have inter- 
ested me. They have set me to thinking 
too.” 

“That is something gained. We should 
get dreadfully stupid if there were nothing to 
stir our curiosity. We need to be continu- 
ally making new starts. Then we learn how 
much there is deserving our attention. I 
have been astonished, this last winter, to find 
how easily people are turned from their usual 
modes of thinking, and how soon you can 
call forth an expression of interest where 
you have least reason to expect it. I have 
learned a great deal myself. We have some 
children among us who are apt teachers. I 
thought I knew something of trees; but 
I have found that my knowledge is very lim- 


284 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

ited. Our Robert is very practical ; and he 
often surprises me with questions it is impos 
sible for me to answer. 

“ Is he like Mason ? ” 

“Not at all.” 

“ I thought he might be in asking ques- 
tions. Only last week, Mason told me I 
ought to be a botanical encyclopaedia. He 
said, if he ever started on a particular track, 
he should know every stone and pebble in 
the way, and be able to tell the name of it. 
He still believes in stones and fossils, al- 
though he has found that other objects have 
attractions. Our evening talks on natural 
history and botany have been more to him 
than to the rest of us. He is spur and whip 
for us all. The pines on the hill out there 
need looking after, Aunt Margaret,” said 
the young man, interrupting himself. “ The 
grubs and beetles must be hard at work on 
them. I was reading, the other day, that some 


NARCOTICS. 


285 


>f the German forests are in danger of being 
entirely destroyed by insects. Trees have 
their attendants everywhere. Whole colo- 
nies of insects live upon them ; and some 
give in return for what they take so largely. 
But, as a general thing, our common insects 
give us very little. Fortunately, we have 
not so many as the warmer countries.” 

u X am glad we have not. I never could 
share in Hester’s enthusiasm for them. 
Robert Bumstead intends to study the habits 
of insects this summer ; and I shall be disap- 
pointed if he does not find it a pleasant 
recreation.” 

“ I presume he will. It may be that dis- 
tance lends enchantment to the insect life of 
warmer countries. I remember the first 
time I read of cochineal, and I have always 
wished I could see the little creature which 
contributes so largely to our brilliant colors ; 
but it is only a few days ago that I learned 
how lac is produced.” 


286 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ It is a kind of resin, is it not ? ” 

“ Yes, it is ; but it does not exude directly 
from a tree. In India, a species of fig-tree 
is the pasture ground for hosts of insects 
that crowd the young twigs, and from these 
insects the lac exudes in large quantities. 
Fig-trees have a milky juice, and in some 
way I suppose the raw material is changed 
by the little workmen.” 

“ That is the most wonderful thing of all ; 
and the order of trees to which figs belong 
abounds in wonders. The famous banyan- 
tree on the Nerbudda, with a circumference 
of three thousand feet, and its two hundred 
living columns, is a grander cathedral than 
the world can boast. I have looked for 
hours at the picture of the banyan-tree in 
my old geography. When I was a child in 
school, I always turned to that when I 
wished to rest my eyes. I used to think I 
would certainly see it, and I quite envied a 


NARCOTICS. 


287 


lady who went to India as a missionary. 
Before I knew much of botany, I thought 
it very strange that plants of such opposite 
qualities should be grouped together.” 

“ So I thought, and even now I have 
hardly reached the point where my wonder 
ceases. I have been studying up medicinal 
plants, and in doing that I have learned 
many strange facts. My old book has given 
me hints which I have followed up until I 
found, that, where there was an actual false- 
hood in statement, there was usually some 
truth to suggest the falsehood. When 
magic was in repute, magicians understood 
the properties of narcotics, and knew how 
to make them available.” 

“ Tell me about it, please, Dick. I have 
read of magical arts, but I never understood 
their secret. I knew, of course, that they 
were not supernatural, but I never troubled 
myself to seek an explanation.” 


288 TMNGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

44 I am not able to explain it fully. I only 
know what my old book says, and what I 
have learned by studying cause and effect. 
You know that belladonna dilates the pupils 
of the eyes, and makes them unnaturally 
brilliant.” 

44 Yes : I fancy that has been known by 
ladies and ladies’ maids for many centuries.” 

44 And now the oculist takes advantage of 
it when he wishes to make a critical exami- 
nation of a diseased eye. Mandragora, a 
cousin of belladonna as Mason would say, 
was a favorite with sorcerers. Stramonium 
seeds were made use of too. A magician 
could easily persuade his dupes to drain the 
magic cup. Besides, he could fill his room 
with the smoke of burning drugs, and so 
intoxicate the senses of those who entered.” 

• 44 1 remember to have read of clouds of 
incense rising from a brazier of coals upon 
tvhich an old man dropped one by one tiny 


NARCOTICS f. 


289 


pastilles brought from the far-off land of 
Ind. I think I have quoted the story teller’s 
very words.” 

“ Very likely. You have a good memory, 
and the powerful narcotic drugs come from 
tropical countries. When I was reading 
about them, I leaned back in my chair, 
closed my eyes, and tried to realize how my 
own senses would be effected by a magician’s 
spells.” 

Dick Fielding was not given to such 
dreaming. There was little in his life to 
stimulate his imagination, or tempt him to 
idle revery. It was only when some new 
truth dawned upon him, moving both heart 
and mind, that he indulged in this fascinat- 
ing recreation. From his aunt he had no 
secrets except such as related to his immedi- 
ate family ; and now, as they compared 
notes, each spoke frankly of moods and 
modes of thought. 


19 


290 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

Then, coming back to the subjects in 
which they were mutually interested, they 
talked of other plants belonging to the order 
so distinguished for its narcotic properties ; 
and, among the different species, tobacco 
received its full share of attention. 

Formerly used by the Caribbeans as a 
sedative, it is but little more than three 
centuries since it was known in Europe. 
The famous Catharine De Medicis gave it 
the sanction of her royal favor ; and but for 
Nicot, to whom she was indebted for her 
knowledge of this American weed, her name 
might have won a still more unenviable dis- 
tinction than it now has. 

During the latter half of the sixteenth 
century, the sovereigns of Europe, of Tur- 
key, and Persia, endeavored by measures of 
more or less severity to stem its increasing 
popularity ; and, failing in this, they resolved 
to profit by its consumption. Steadily gain- 


NARCOTICS 


291 


ing ground as the years have passed, this 
one article, which must be counted either a 
pest or a luxury, is the source of an enor- 
mous revenue in every civilized country. 

“ I wish I was the owner of every tobacco 
seed and plant in the world,” said Miss Aus- 
ten, after listening to her nephew’s recapitu- 
lation of what he had learned concerning 
the noxious weed. 

“ Tlien y°u could dispose of your posses- 
sions for their weight in gold. You would 
be the richest woman the world has ever 
seen.” 

My riches would be consumed. I would 
sacrifice all for the privilege of ridding the 
earth of the greatest foe to cleanliness, 
sobriety, and thrift. Never mandragora, or 
any other medicinal poison, wrought such 
ruin as has tobacco. Sir Walter Raleigh 
was a knightly gentleman, but he sullied his 
shield when he engraved upon it the broad 


292 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

leaves of the tobacco-plant. It was no 
honor to introduce the fashion of smoking.” 

“ Surely not in your estimation, Aunt 
Margie. You would hardly have trodden 
upon his cloak to save your daintiest slippers 
from the mud. But there is the potato, 
ranked in the same order with your pet 
aversion ; a native of South America, doing 
its best to make amends for the faults of its 
relatives. The tomato, too, counts on the 
side of usefulness. Cayenne pepper and cap- 
sicum must offset against the deadly night- 
shades. And these should not all be called 
deadly. Some of them lose their poisonous 
qualities after being boiled, and are then 
used for greens. Our beautiful petunias 
belong to the order Solanese.” 

“ And so I suppose we must tolerate 
the family relations, although nightshades 
seem to me intolerable. I always associate 
them with noisome places. When I was a 


NARCOTICS . 


293 


child, there was a stagnant pool of watei 
down by the woods, and all around it there 
was a luxuriant growth of plants which my 
instincts warned me to avoid. Some grew in 
the water, lifting their heads above the 
slime, and these seemed to me most offensive 
of all. A skilled botanist would have found 
there much to admire and study.” 

“ Yes, Aunt Margie, such a pool always 
contains several varieties of algae.” 

“ I know it does. But father called it a 
sink-hole, and at last he had it filled. The 
beauty which another might have seen there 
was hidden from us.” 

“ That reminds me that Mason has had his 
curiosity roused in regard to water-flannel. 
He came across the back meadow just before 
you came home, and found large patches 
covering the ground. An old man told him 
the name of it, and now he wants to know 
all about it. He appealed to me, and of 


294 TIT TNG S COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

course reproved me for my ignorance ; so 
that I tried to find out what I could about 
it. I suppose I have always seen it, but 
Mason was the first person who ever called 
my attention to it.” 

“ I never thought of it in my life,” 
replied Miss Austen. “ We ought to be 
thankful to that boy for asking questions.” 

“ I am thankful, and when he gives me a 
word of praise I feel quite proud.” 

“ You may be sure that he considers it 
deserved. He is no flatterer. But please 
tell me what you know of this water-flannel. 
How is it produced? ” 

“ It is really a species of fresh water algae, 
and during some winters it multiplies enor- 
mously. You find it where a field or 
meadow has been under water. In the 
spring, when the water drains off, this is left, 
and dries and whitens. Of course, when I 
tell Mason so much as this, he will ask me 


NARCOTICS. 


295 


for a general and particular description of 
algae in all its varieties.” 

“I am tempted to do the same thing, 
Dick. I have heard of the bank of sea- 
weed floating in the middle of the Atlantic 
Ocean. Columbus crossed it in 1492 ; and it 
is still there, an immense growth of sar - 
gassum natans. It bears floating bladders, 
and I suppose that is what sustains it upon 
the surface of the water.” 

“ Probably. But I have no idea of 
attempting to teach you this branch of 
botany. If you were to remain at home we 
would study it up together. I should enjoy 
that more than I can tell. It is not exactly 
in my line, but I find that one thing leads to 
another.” 

Thus is it always with the lover of 
Nature. His mistress walks ever before him, 
and ever eludes the clasping of his arms. 
Yet he hears the rustle of her garments, and 


296 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 


catclies glimpses of her beauteous face ; sc 
that he is rewarded at every step, although 
denied the full fruition of his desires. 






CHAPTER XVI. 

LILIPUTIANS. 

^h|JALLOO there, Dick ! Found out about 

#Xi|I that water-flannel yet?” shouted 

% Mason Stuart, as he saw his cousin 
g) 

at work in the grounds belonging to the old 
family home. 

“ I have found out something about it,” 
was replied. 

“ Then let us hear it. Rufe and I went 
over to the back meadow together, and we 
couldn’t either of us guess what made it. 
Tell you what, if it wasn’t for being an 
ignoramus, a fellow might as well give up 
studying first as last. I used to think any- 


297 


298 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

body needed to go to a different part of the 
world to see any thing curious and wonder- 
ful ; but I’ve found out all we need to do is 
to open our eyes, and see what there is right 
round us.” 

The speaker had gradually approached 
his cousin while saying this ; and when the 
final conclusion was reached, he waited ex- 
pectantly. “ Come, now, tell me about 
water-flannel,” he added after a short 
silence. 

“ I’m in too much of a hurry to stop to 
talk,” answered Dick Fielding without 
looking up from his work. “ I have just so 
much to do before dark, and have no time to 
spare. I can tell you one thing about it, and 
that is all. Water-flannel is a vegetable 
growth ; an accumulation of a kind of fresh- 
water alga, called confervce .” 

“'What in the world is alga? That’s a 
word I don’t remember. Come, Dick, tell a 


LlLIfV TIANS. 


299 


fellow what it is any way ; and I should like 
to know how any kind of vegetable growth 
can make that flannel stuff.” 

;i There, Mason, I knew how it would be. 
I knew you would begin asking questions as 
fast as you could think,” said the young man 
laughing heartily. 

“Well, how can I help it, when I want to 
know any thing ? I suppose alga is a new- 
fashioned botanical name.” 

“Not new-fashioned, although perhaps 
new to you. Aunt Margaret and I have 
been trying to learn what we can about the 
order of plants known as algce, and some- 
time we will give you the benefit of our 
study.” 

“ Well, I suppose I must wait if you say so. 
But do find time to tell me before long. I 
promised Rufus I’d let him know. He’s get- 
ting waked up about such things same as the 
rest of us. I’ll go in and see Aunt Marga- 


300 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

ret, and see what she says. It’s too bad for 
her to go off again when we’re beginning to 
appreciate her more than we ever did before. 
Any way, I do, and I always thought enough 
of her.” 

Now, seeing the lady thus praised stand- 
ing by an open window, he bounded forward, 
and was soon beside her. She addressed him 
upon a subject entirely foreign to that which 
had been the theme of his recent conversa- 
tion ; but, true to his nature, he returned 
to it again, and was again disappointed in 
not receiving the information he desired. 

Not long after, however, when the cousins 
were together for an evening, he pronounced 
the mysterious word which had so fixed his 
attention, adding, u Now do let us hear 
something about the plants that never blos- 
som nor bear fruit.” 

“ Are you sure that algce never blossom 
nor bear fruit? ” asked Dick in reply. 


LILIPUTIANS. 


301 


“ I’m not sure any thing about them, any 
way ; and it has kept me awake sometimes, 
thinking and wondering. I came pretty 
near missing my Latin lesson one day because 
I got that word so mixed up with others. 
Clarke don’t know any more about the 
queer things than I do, unless he’s found out 
lately. Madge don’t either. I’ve seen 
plenty of seaweed, and I suppose that be- 
longs to the cdgce.” 

“ Yes, it does ; and there are a great many 
varieties of seaweed, as you call it.” 

“ I know there are ; some large ones and 
some small ones. I read of one that grows 
more than a thousand feet long. I thought 
that was a pretty big thing ; but I’ve 
learned better than to dispute big stories I 
don’t know any thing about.” 

“I am glad if you have,” responded 
Clarke. 

“ So am I. Now I never shall think I am 


302 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON 

too wise to learn. I never thought of the 
ocean being a garden. I knew it was a great 
aquarium. I saw some illustrations of algce 
the other day, and some of them looked like 
trees, and some like great ferns. One had 
broad leaves that the book said were ten or 
twelve feet wide. It didn’t call them leaves 
though ; it called them fronds.” 

“ So you have learned it all for yourself, 
Cousin Mason,” remarked Nellie Fielding. 

“ No, indeed, I haven’t. I’ve only learned 
two or three things ; and I shouldn’t have 
done that, if anybody would have told me. 
I got tired of waiting, so I hunted up what 
I could. Now somebody else must talk.” 

Clarke Stuart had been sharply questioned 
some days before this, when he professed 
himself wholly indifferent to such vegeta- 
tion as seemed to him neither useful nor 
ornamental. Yet, despite his indifference, 
he had given it some attention. He had 


LILTPUTIANS. 


303 


learned that algce may grow in water, or 
upon the damp ground ; sometimes with 
roots firmly clasping a solid body, sometimes 
descending into the mud or sand, and some- 
times floating loosely. 

From discussions, questions with their 
replies, and odd bits of information which 
each one of the company had in some way 
acquired, a tolerably correct idea of this 
rather obscure class of organisms was ob- 
tained. 

Dick could tell of the variety, vulgarly 
styled “ wrack,” from the ashes of which 
iodine and soda are obtained. Some species 
are used as food for cattle. Several, if not 
most species, are surrounded by a mucila- 
ginous layer. Of these, the carrageen moss 
furnishes food for the poor people living on 
the shores of northern seas. Nicely pre- 
pared, this moss, or others not unlike it, 
forms the basis of jellies and blancmanges 


304 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

which are counted as luxuries by the most 
affluent. 

In Brittany, thousands of cart-loads of 
seaweed are carried by the peasants twelve 
or fifteen miles inland, to be spread upon 
the ground as a fertilizer, for which it is 
very valuable. The stipes, or stems, of some 
varieties, become so hard when dry, that 
they can be manufactured into knife-han- 
dles, and also into surgical instruments. 

Algoe flourish in different climates, and 
under widely different circumstances. Some 
are found in polar regions, and some in 
medicinal springs; one variety growing in 
mineral waters whose temperature is above 
one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. The fa- 
mous red snow of the arctic regions and of 
the Alps owes its existence to a minute 
growth of algoe; and the same variety is 
said to be found upon stones in fresh-water 


streams. 


LI LIP U TIANS. 


305 


A microscropic plant described by Mon- 
taigne covered the Red Sea at one time, 
over a surface of two hundred miles, with 
its little filaments of brick color ; and it is 
said that the ocean is sometimes colored by 
the same plant. Algce are usually of a deep 
color, and so conspicuous wherever they are 
found in any considerable quantity. 

While many are mucilaginous, some ap- 
pear to secrete a liquid so acrid as to de- 
compose the hardest limestone. One, so 
small as to be seen only under the micro- 
scrope, growing upon the pebbles of Lake 
Neufchatel, corrodes these pebbles, furrow- 
ing them with worm-like lines of consider- 
able depth. 

“Now, Aunt Margie, is that a positive 
fact ? ” asked Mason eagerly, when the last 
statement had been made. 

“ There is good authority for it,” was re- 
plied. “ I know that at first thought it 
20 


306 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

seems almost incredible ; but there are pow- 
erful vegetable acids, and this algce , small 
as it is, abounds in such quantities that it 
can produce large results. You know that 
many hands make light work ; and an army 
of Liliputians working at their own level 
will accomplish far more than one who is a 
giant in size and strength.” 

“Now, isn’t that a splendid comparison?” 
exclaimed Nellie. “ There are hosts of 
armies of Liliputians in this world.” 

“Yes, Nellie, and they are always at their 
posts. Some are throwing up embankments 
and fortifications, while others are sapping 
and mining in true soldier style.” 

“ Well, Clarke, that’s pretty good for you. 
I didn’t expect it of you, but you do some- 
times say just the right thing. Now tell us 
which is which.” 

“Must I keep to the vegetable king- 


dom?” 


liliputians. 


307 


“No matter about it. Aunt Margaret 
knows we’re not like a society of old folks, 
bound to keep straight along on one track. 
We can assort and label our knowledge 
after we get through. I shall. I’ve begun 
taking notes on my own account, and it 
does me more good than to trust Madge, 
though she can make a good deal better 
notes than I can.” 

“ I’ve got a book too,” said Mary Field- 
ing, who seldom allowed her voice to be 
heard when matters of importance were 
under consideration, and who now blushed 
at her unwonted boldness. 

“I am glad to hear that. I wish I had 
commenced at your age to take notes of 
what I saw and heard which interested me 
particularly,” said Miss Austen, thus re- 
assuring her niece. 

“ Don’t you remember it all, Aunt Mar- 
gie ? ” 


308 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ Oh, no, indeed ! I have forgotten a great 
deal. That is an actual loss. Then, while 
writing out what I had learned, other subjects 
of interest would have suggested themselves 
to me ; so that I should have been always on 
the alert. I presume I have wasted time 
on trivial matters, that I should have spent 
in study, if I had kept such a book as Mary’s. 
Now, to return to the question before us. 
The floor is yours, Clarke.” 

With a graceful acknowledgment of the 
favor thus accorded, the young man turned 
to his brother, and asked, “What is the 
question?” 

“ Who or what are building embankments 
and fortifications? Perhaps you thought I 
had forgotten.” 

“ I never knew you to forget a question 
you had once asked, so I had no reason to 
expect it now. I suppose you know some- 
thing of the coral builders.” 


LILIPU T IANS. 


309 


u I know that coral is made by some kind 
of an animal. It isn’t very long, though, 
since I found that out. I called it a queer 
kind of stone, and thought no more about 
it.” 

“ It is a queer kind of stone, and the 
makers of it are queerer still. Prof. Dana 
says coral is made by four different organ- 
isms. They build enormous stone heaps in 
the ocean.” 

“ How do they do it ? ” 

“ They secrete it.” 

“ What does that mean, I should like to 
know ? ” 

“ How are your bones made ? ” 

“ They grow. I eat food that makes bone 
and muscle.” 

“ The polyps take nourishment that makes 
coral. Some of it they draw from the water, 
but the most substantial part of their living 
is furnished by the tiny mollusks that go 


310 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

drifting along all ready to be appropriated. 
They thrive, too, upon this diet ; and multi- 
ply so rapidly that where one builder is 
established there are soon hundreds of thou- 
sands. As fast as a piece of work is com- 
pleted, they move up until they come to the 
surface of the water, where they die from 
exposure. Then there is the commencement 
of an island or reef ; and additions are made 
to it by the descendants of those who did 
the first work on it.” 

“ That is keeping the business right along 
in the family ; but I don’t quite understand 
how it is done.” 

“ We can never quite understand the 
processes of nature,” said Miss Austen. 
“ There is always a mystery we cannot 
fathom. The polyps have been at work for 
ages, and have contributed largely to the 
solid substance of the earth. But I’ll not 
interrupt you further, Clarke.” 


LILIPUTIANS. 


311 


“ You never interrupt me, Aunt Margaret. 
I have no ,doubt you can describe coral-mak- 
ing better than I can. Many islands in the 
Pacific Ocean owe their origin to these Lili- 
putians of the sea. They branch out in 
every direction ; and those nearest the base 
secrete a layer of carbonate of lime when 
they are dying, and at last harden into stone 
themselves. This protects their work from 
the action of the waves ; and then different 
kinds of shell-fish and coral adhere to it, so 
increasing the size of the structure. It gets 
to be as solid as limestone.” 

“ It is limestone, isn’t it ? ” 

“ From ninety-five to ninety-eight per cent 
of it is limestone. Coral islands and coral 
reefs are beds of solid limestone formed of 
corals and shells.” 

“ But how do trees grow on bare lime- 
stone ? ” 

“ They don’t grow on bare stone of any 


312 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

kind. There must be soil before there can 
be well organized plants. But here is a 
material for soil. The hardest stone is grad- 
ually decomposing under the action of the 
atmosphere.” 

“ It would take a good while to decompose 
enough to grow cocoanut trees, and all the 
other things people need to live on.” 

“ It would. You are right there, Mason ; 
and, to tell the truth, that is a part of the 
subject I haven’t thought much about. 
Come, Dick, can’t you give us some help in 
the case ? ” 

“ Soil must be formed by decomposition or 
aggregation. Pieces of coral might be 
broken from the sides of the island or reef, 
and thrown upon the surface, where at high 
tide they would be ground together until 
they would leave something like soil in 
some crevice of the rock. Lichens would 
grow upon these bare stones, and help 


LILIPUTTANS. 


313 


make soil, until, after a lapse of years, a 
chance seed might find enough to support 
life, and nourish it into a vigorous plant. 
A bird, the wind, or the waves might bring 
the seed; and, vegetation once started, it 
would perpetuate itself. Does that seem to 
you a probable solution of the difficulty, 
Clarke?” 

“Yes, it does; and, if I’m not mistaken, 
that is the way the soil of our globe gener- 
ally has been formed. Some stones crumble 
very easily, and very few are entirely naked 
of vegetation. The lichens are always at 
their work too.” 

“To come back to seaweeds : there are 
some varieties, called nullipores, which form 
incrustations upon corals. They are hard 
and stony, but they are real plants after all. 
Some are delicate, secreting only a little 
lime, and these are called corallines. They 
sometimes grow so abundantly, that , when 


3 ) * THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

they are broken up, and accumulated along 
th^ diore, they make deposits of considera- 
ble thickness. There are such beds in the 
Florida seas. Now, Mason, I think you will 
be ready to acknowledge that the Liliputians 
do their part of work in the world.” 

“ Of course I am willing to acknowledge 
it,” was the boy’s prompt reply to his broth- 
er’s remark. “ I am always willing to ac- 
knowledge any thing that is fairly proved ; 
but what I don’t like is to hear people mak- 
ing grand sounding statements that have no 
foundation. It’s encouraging to you and me 
to know that small people can accomplish 
something in the world. That’s our only 
hope of usefulness ; and we better take pat- 
tern by the coral builders, and reach up, 
instead of down.” 

“ That is well said,” rejoined Miss Austen. 
“We need to be continually reaching up. 
We should place our ideal high. He who 


LILIPUTIANS. 


315 


ciims at the stars will at least ^et so near 
them as to see their beauty. These Lilipu- 
tian builders never tire or grow weary. 
When they have constructed an island, they 
often set to work to fortify it by a reef a 
short distance from the shore, leaving an 
unbridged moat not unlike that which sur- 
rounded an old castle in feudal times. 
There was a drawbridge across the moat of 
a castle, but sometimes this was destroyed 
as a means of safety.” 

“Ive read about such castles,” said 
Madge, with sparkling eyes. 

“ Yes ; and, if you did not wish to see one, 
your thoughts were not like mine. Perhaps, 
if we could examine the outlines of a coral 
island from base to summit, we should find 
many points of resemblance between it and 
some massive building with turrets and em- 
brasures. As it is, only the turrets or the 
broad flat roof are visible, but you may be 


316 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

sure of the firm foundation. The process 
of building is still going on. Here and there 
a rock appears just at the surface of the 
water ; and this is gradually enlarged, until 
at last it has a name and place.” 

Perhaps in a vague way, each one present 
had known something of these facts ; yet, as 
they were now presented, they had all the 
charm of novelty. 

“ Please tell us some more,” at length said 
Lilia when she feared that other subjects of 
less importance would engross attention. 

“ Aunt Margaret can tell you about 
diatomeae, or brittleworts,” responded Dick. 
u We have been talking a good deal about 
them, and she can give you a very good idea 
of their growth and uses.” 

“ I could if my knowledge of these micro- 
scopic plants was equal to my interest in 
them. Some naturalists class them among 
animals, but I think the majority count them 


LILIPUTIANS. 


317 


in the vegetable kingdom. They grow 
nearly everywhere where there is water or 
moisture. Some are parasitic, some form 
flakes on stones, some form gelatinous 
masses, and some live in pure spring water, 
while some cover the damp ground with a 
sticky layer. In fountains they stain the 
walls brown.” 

“ And do you have to look with a micro- 
scope to see them ? ” 

“ Yes, if you wish to see them to any 
advantage, so you can understand their 
structure. Their common name tells you 
that they are brittle. They contain large 
quantities of silex ; and, as layer after layer 
accumulates in some favored position, they 
form beds of considerable thickness. Ehren- 
berg discovered that the rotten stone used 
so extensively in the arts is composed of 
fossilized brittleworts. The fronds are 
jointed, and the joints, or frustules as they 


318 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

are called, are something like minute 
shells. 

“ These algce are said to furnish a large 
part of the food of the lower mollusks. In 
a curious way, too, they furnish food for 
human beings. The powder known to 
geologists as 4 mineral flour,’ and to common 
people as ‘mountain meal,’ is really the pow- 
dered frustules of brittleworts. In some 
places in Sweden, the poorer people mix it 
with ordinary flour, and it is said to make 
quite palatable bread.” 

“Well, that is the strangest thing I’ve 
heard this evening ; and it puzzles me to 
know how you found out so much about 
such out of the way things,” exclaimed 
Madge. 

“ So it puzzles me too, ’’chimed in Hester. 

“ Algce are not out of the way things,” 
was replied. 44 The next time you take a 
pebble from the brook, and it feels slimy in 


LILIPUTIANS. 


319 


your hand, you may know that you have 
found a plantation of minute algoe . On the 
surface of stagnant water you will see 
another variety. ” 

“Now, Aunt Margaret, did you learn that 
all yourself by looking ? ” 

“ No, I did not. I am ashamed to say it, 
but I have almost entirely overlooked this 
order of plants; and it is only since I came 
home that my attention has been particu- 
larly called to them. Mason wished to 
know about water-flannel, and applied to 
Dick for information. So you see this even- 
ing’s talk is the result of a question asked 
with no thought of provoking so much 
curiosity.” 

“ And if I hadn’t twisted my ankle, and 
hurt it, I shouldn’t have noticed the flannel. 

I had to stop, and the sun was shining just 
right to show it off. I’ve been across that 
meadow lots of times, but I never saw any 


320 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

thing wonderful there before. Will it stay 
there all summer ? ” 

“You can find that out by looking,” 
answered Clarke. 

“ And it’s likely to me you don’t know 
more about it than I do. Does anybody 
here know ? ” 

Not one could reply in the affirmative, but 
several made a note of the inquiry ; and 
there was a prospect that the back meadow 
would be frequently visited during the 
coming season. 

“ Have you told us all you know about 
diatomece , Aunt Margaret ? I don’t like 
that Latin name so well as I do the other, 
but I wanted to find out if I could speak 
it.” 

“ And, you are sure that you can. I 
believe I have told you all I can about 
diatomece , but it is not by any means all 
there is to be known. I hope to learn a 


LILIPUTIANS. 


321 


great deal more ; and, now that natural sci- 
ence is receiving such general attention, you 
will find in almost every paper and magazine 
some scientific fact worthy of being remem- 
bered. If people would only study these 
facts, instead of the details of vice and 
crime, there would be infinitely less of evil 
in the world. A boy or girl better sit down 
with a magnifying-glass by some pool of 
water, and study the animal and vegetable 
life found there, than to read how a safe 
was opened or a store was robbed.” 

“ That’s miserable reading, Aunt Mar- 
garet, and I don’t read such things. The 
next time I see a green scum on the water, 
or a sticky place on the ground, I shall 
remember what you’ve said, and I shall 
know what it means.” 

“ I presume you will, and some time we 
will compare notes to see how much more 
we have learned.” 


31 


822 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“But, Aunt Margie, if britttleworts are 
so small, how can they ever make great 
banks of rotten stone ? Who knows certain 
about it ? ” 

“ Men who have made a specialty of such 
studies, and who are qualified to judge. 
These beds are the fossilized shells of brittle- 
worts, so they may have been accumulating 
for ages. A Frenchman has shown, that, by 
calcining living species, an artificial rotten 
stone can be produced ; so that there seems 
no reason to doubt the origin of tripoli.” 

“ How long it takes to bring things round 
to their right place. First these little bits of 
plants must grow, so many you can’t couni 
them ; and then they must die, and be heaped 
up, layer after layer, till they turn to stone 
that people need to use. I suppose that is 
the end of it.” 

“ You are not sure of that. It may be 
these beds of stone will decompose and fur- 


LILIPUTTANS. 


323 


nish nourishment to trees of a gigantic 
growth.” 

Who can tell ? 

Only He who formed the earth, and gave 
to each life its bounds that it cannot pass. 




CHAPTER XVII. 

THE NEW TEACHER. 

f DWARD STUART had been to the 
railroad station for Miss Greenleaf, and 
returned without her, greatly to the 
disappointment of all concerned. Miss Aus- 
ten had arranged for her coming some days 
before the opening of her school, and, 
although not there to receive her, had taken 
care that nothing should be wanting to insure 
her comfort. 

“I’m afraid she won’t come at all now,” 
said Jessie Elliot when told that her friend 
had not arrived. 

But the next day, when Mr. Bumstead 


824 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


325 


went to the station with the lumber-wagon, 
he saw a lady just stepping from the cars, and 
heard her ask if there was any conveyance 
to Austenville. 

“ There’s no proper one for a lady, but if 
you’ll wait an hour we’ll have the buggy 
here,” he answered, although the question 
was not addressed to him. 

“ Mr. Bumstead belongs in Austenville,” 
said the station-master by way of explana- 
tion. 

“ Yes, that I do ; and I’m thinking you’re 
the one Mr. Stuart came over for yesterday. 
You’ve come to teach the school, haven’t 
you?” 

“ Yes, sir, and I intended to be here yes- 
terday. I am sorry I have made unnecessary 
trouble, but I could not avoid it.” 

“ You’ve made no trouble, miss. We 
don’t mind little things. I’ll take your bag- 
gage along as soon as I’ve loaded up, and 


3^6 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON 

it’ll not be long before you’ll be sent for. 
I’ll promise you a welcome if the mistress be 
away.” 

During the next few minutes, Miss Green- 
leaf watched the rapid loading of the wag- 
on ; and, when this seemed nearly accom- 
plished, she went out of the room where she 
had been sitting, and asked if she could not 
ride with her baggage. 

“ Sure, miss, there’s a place for you on the 
seat, and it’s not by any means a bad one. 
The mistress herself has rode on it, but it’s 
not the way she’d choose for you. You’ll be 
pleasing yourself though, and I’d be proud 
of your company.” 

“ I shall be glad to ride with you,” was 
the simple reply ; and thus Miss Greenleaf 
won the hearty good will of a man who was 
never known to turn his back upon a friend. 

Before they had reached their destination, 
he was ready to indorse every word of praise 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


327 


which might be spoken in her behalf. Her 
plain face seemed to him really handsome. 
He noted the weary look it wore, and pitied 
her as he would have pitied a child. Her 
board had been- engaged in the house in 
which Mrs. Brady had rooms, and here Mr. 
Bumstead left her. 

Norah Borine looked out in astonishment 
to see the teacher “ riding with wool sacks 
and barrels ; ” for despite Jessie’s representa- 
tions she had expected to see a grand lady. 

“ I think I’ll love her,” she murmured half 
aloud. “ She’s no finer dressed than mother 
of a Sunday ; and she said 4 Thank you,’ as 
sweet as the birds sing.” 

Later, Jessie Elliot was sitting close be- 
side Miss Greenleaf, talking almost gleefully 
of the changes in her own fortune. 

“ I think this is the very best place in the 
world,” she said at length. “Everybody’s 
good here. I guess they can’t help it, be- 


328 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

cause, you see, that’s the way with Miss Aus- 
ten and Mr. Stuart. Father’s just as good 
as he can be too ; and I almost believe he’s 
a Christian. I heard him pray last night, 
when he thought I was asleep. Oh, it’s all 
so different from what it was when I lived 
with Mrs. Cofran ! I had to work most all 
the time there.” 

“But Mrs. Cofran did not intend to be 
unkind to you. She has a great interest in 
you, and will be very glad to know that you 
are so happy.” 

“ She’s good to think of me ; and she 
never was bad, onty there was so much work 
to do, and there wa’n’t anybody to love me. 
How I used to wish my mother was alive, 
and we had a little cottage like yours ! Now 
your mother is dead.” 

u Yes, Jessie ; and I am left all alone.” 
u O Miss Greenleaf, I’m so sorry for you ! 
But, when my mother died, I was so small I 


TEE NEW TEACHER. 


329 


couldn’t take care of myself; and fathei 
wasn’t as he is now.” 

“ I know it, Jessie. It was harder for you 
to lose your mother than for me to lose mine. 
Now we will help each other.” 

“ I don’t think I know how to help you, 
only about finding flowers, and such things. 
But I’m so glad to have you here ! and I 
wish your little house was set right down 
over by the woods. There’s a place there 
looks some like your field. There’s a grape- 
vine running over a rock ; and there’ll be 
lots of flowers there in summer.” 

Already the stranger was beginning to feel 
herself at home. The wood-fire which blazed 
and crackled on the hearth gave to her room 
a cheerful aspect; while the sunny south 
windows, with an outlook upon a long range 
of hills, beyond which the far off mountains 
towered grandly, reminded her of the win- 
dows through which she had gazed upon 
other scenes. 


330 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

Mr. Gatohell said that every man who 
came to Austenville felt at once that he had 
come to the right place to be somebody ; and 
never was this feeling stronger in any breast 
than in that of “ the new teacher.” There 
was work to be done here, — good, honest 
work for head and heart and hands. There 
were common interests and common sympa- 
thies. 

It was yet early spring. Even now the 
snow lingered in shady ravines and deep 
gorges. But around the homes of the peo- 
ple the atmosphere seemed pervaded with 
the gladness of summer. 

From J essie, Alice Greenleaf had heard of 
the “ Sunday evening meetings,” and the 
society for mutual improvement. In co min g 
here, she had been timid and self-distrust- 
ful, shrinking from her position. Now, re- 
assured by what she saw and what was told 
her, she no longer doubted that Providence 
had directed her steps. 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


331 


In the evening Mr. Elliot called upon 
her, as she had expected ; hut he was by no 
means such a man as she had expected to 
see. Gentlemanly in looks, and prepossess- 
ing in manners, she found it impossible to 
realize that he had ever been a besotted 
drunkard, breaking the heart of his wife, 
and leaving his child to the cold charities of 
the world. She had seen him on a few occa- 
sions, meanly dressed, and bearing unmistak- 
able signs of his degradation. Once she 
had found him by the roadside in a state of 
insensibility from which she turned with dis- 
gust. 

Now he met her as an equal, talking 
intelligently of the duties which were to 
devolve upon her, and promising to aid her.so 
far as was in his power. Only one allusion 
was made to his past life, and that was in 
reference to his daughter. 

“ She remembers you gratefully, as a friend 


332 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

when she most needed friends ; and I hope 
we may have the opportunity to repay you 
in some measure for your kindness,” he said 
courteously. 

“ I gave no more than I received,” was 
this friend’s reply. “ Jessie is a child of re- 
markable tastes and abilities, and she was a 
great comfort to my mother and myself. 
Mother used to wish we were able to give her 
a home with us.” 

“ And you must have despised her father 
for his neglect of her. I despise myself for 
it. If it is possible to make amends for such 
wrong, I shall certainly do so.” 

What might have been said in response to 
this, I cannot tell. Mrs. Bumstead and Ed- 
ward Stuart came in, the former apologizing 
for so doing by referring to her companion. 

“ I was sure you would be glad to see her,” 
said the young man smilingly. 

“ I am very glad to see her,” was replied. 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


333 


“ Maybe you are, and the mistress gone ! 
If she was here, I’d staid in my kitchen, 
though we’d all been counting the days for 
you. There’s so many children needing the 
right schooling, and we’re expecting great 
things of you.” 

“ How ever I could talk that way to a lady 
I never set eyes on before, I don’t know,” 
said the good woman afterwards to her hus- 
band, when describing this interview. “ The 
words came jumping out of my mouth just 
as though she called them. I’m that 
ashamed, and I’m thinking Mr. Stuart was 
ashamed for me.” 

On the contrary, he was pleased with her 
frank, hearty words ; and he had reason to 
believe that they were fully appreciated by 
another. Alice Greenleaf did not doubt 
their sincerity. When left alone, she re- 
called again and again the homely speech 
which had sent such a thrill to her heart. 


334 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

The next morning the early bell roused 
her from her slumbers, and, looking forth, 
she soon saw signs of active life. Doors 
were opened, blinds thrown back, and cur- 
tains rolled, while wreaths of smoke as- 
cended from a score of chimneys. She was 
ready for breakfast long before her landlady 
called her, and spent the intervening time in 
arranging some small rustic pictures she had 
brought with her. She could find other 
lichens and mosses as brightly tinted, and 
make other pictures perhaps more beautiful ; 
but these were associated with home and 
mother, and therefore doubly dear. 

She could not be idle. To one trained to 
her habits of industry, idleness would be 
positive unhappiness. This, Mrs. Wilder 
learned during the morning, and, glad to find 
one who understood the mysteries of dress- 
making, availed herself of proffered assist- 


ance. 


TUF; AEW TEACHER. 


335 


“ Now, you’re the very one that’s wanted 
here,” she said heartily. “ We’ve got most 
every thing but a dressmaker, and Miss Aus- 
ten's said a good many times we ought to 
have somebody to do all kinds of sewing. 
She’s been hoping there’d somebody come 
along, but there don't seem to. School don’t 
keep all the time, and may be you’d be will- 
ing to do a piece of work once in a while ; 
though if you was like the teacher we had 
last summer you wouldn’t half keep school.” 

“I have always done more than teach 
school, and I shall be glad to do what I can 
here,” was the reply. “ There must be a 
woman somewhere who would be glad to 
find such a place as this. I know of one 
myself.” 

“ Then you might tell Miss Austen, and 
have her sent for. She’d do it, and the 
woman never’d be sorry. Nobody’s sorry 
for coming here. Taint much more’n six 


336 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

months since the first blow was struck 
towards starting up the mill again ; and now 
you’d hardly think ’twas ever stopped by the 
way things go on. I never see nothing like 
it in all my life. There’ll be gardens here 
this summer that’ll make folks’ eyes shine, 
and they say they’re going to have a library 
of books for the mill folks. 

“ We’ve got two of the smartest boys here 
thei^ is anywhere, and two of the smartest 
girls too. You know about Jessie Elliot. 
Well, there’s Norah Borine that lives in the 
other part of the house, that can match her. 
She’s a gypsy looking child, but she’s got a 
long head. She’s out every day in the 
woods, when she gets her work done after 
dinner, and there’s no end to the things she 
brings home. Where she finds them I don’t 
know. Jessie went with her the first time, 
but now she’d as soon go alone as any way.” 

In all this Miss Greenleaf was interested ; 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


337 


particularly in regard to Nor ah, of whom 
she was thinking when she caught a glimpse 
of a child hastening down the street. 

“ That’s her,” exclaimed Mrs. Wilder. 
“Now you can see her for yourself. She’ll 
be back before many minutes.” 

As she carried a heavily laden basket, 
she walked slowly, thus giving time for a 
study of her face. Her black hair was con- 
fined by a band of scarlet flannel, the ends 
of which had been ravelled to form a deep 
fringe. Around her neck was a tie of the 
same material, fastened loosely, with the 
fringes streaming over her shoulders. 

Miss Greenleaf was not disposed to criti- 
cise the description of her face ; yet she saw 
deeper than her landlady had seen, and 
knew that with the clear olive complexion 
and coal black eyes there was a passionate 
nature of wondrous strength for good or ill. 
Her sympathies were at once enlisted, and 
22 


338 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

she questioned how she could best gain the 
confidence of one evidently so shy and sus- 
picious. 

“ If you can make friends with Norah, 
you’ll do well,” continued Mrs. Wilder, after 
a short conversation in regard to the work 
spread before them. “ She’s a Catholic, 
same’s her mother and grandmother, and to 
my mind that aint no better than being a 
heathen. She’s smart though, and maybe 
you’re the very one to bring her round. I 
shouldn’t think strange if you was. Some 
way, just the folks that’s needed seem to 
come here.” 

The stranger of whom so much was ex- 
pected was sitting alone in her room, sewing 
diligently, when the clock struck three ; 
and at the same time Norah Borine left the 
house with an empty basket swinging from 
her arm. Now was the desired opportunity. 
Another, donning hat and shawl, went out, 


THE NEW TEACHER . 


339 


basket in hand, taking the same direction as 
the young girl, who was her unwitting guide. 
When the latter reached the woods, she 
turned and looked around ; a warm color 
flushing her cheeks as she observed Miss 
Greenleaf. 

44 Please, can you tell me where I can find 
some flowers ? ” 

Sweet to her as the song of a bird was the 
tone in which this question was asked ; and 
before her usual perversity had asserted it- 
self she answered cordially, — 

44 1 know where there are some little 
flowers.” 

‘‘Little flowers are just what I want. 
Did you bring your basket for flowers ? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am.” 

“ Then will you let me go with you ? I 
know where to look for flowers at home, 
but I am a stranger here. If you will let 
me go with you, I shall be very glad.” 


840 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ You’re the new teacher, aint you? ” 

u Yes, and I hope you are to be one of my 
scholars.” 

“ I am, ma’am ; and Jessie said I’d be sure 
to love you. I’m sure of it too.” 

“ I was just thinking I should love you. 
I wish Jessie was here.” 

“ There she comes,” was Norah’s joyful 
exclamation, uttered in response to this re- 
mark. “ I waited for her till I thought she 
wa’n’t coming. — O J essie, how glad lam!” 

“ And I am glad too, but I run so fast I 
can’t be very glad till I get rested. — Why, 
Miss Greenleaf ! ” 

“ You see, I didn’t wait to be introduced 
to your friend. She came, and I wanted to 
come too, so I started. I thought she was 
coming for flowers.” 

“ She is always coming for flowers and all 
sorts of other things. Let’s follow up the 
brook a good ways this time.” 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


341 


“If we do I think we shall find some 
colt’s foot,” said Miss Greenleaf. 

“ Is that the flower that comes before the 
leaves do, and then after they’re dead, the 
leaves come out so large and woolly ? ” 

“ Yes, it is.” 

“ I wish we could find some.” 

“We can if there is clay enough in the 
soil to give it proper nourishment ; and I 
judge that there is.” 

“ Father was wishing the other daj r that 
there was a clay bank near here. He said it 
would be a great convenience.” 

“ Perhaps we shall discover it;” and the 
speaker stirred the water of the little 
stream, saying as she did so, “ There is clay 
here.” 

They walked on, keeping near its bank, 
and looking closely for tokens of bud and 
blossom. At length Jessie espied a gleam of 
golden yellow, and, springing forward, saw 


342 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

the flower she sought, struggling to raise 
itself above the pebbles which surrounded 
it. Solitary, terminal, and many-rayed, with 
no part of its stalk visible, it seemed to have 
its root in the very stones themselves. 

Norah was wild with delight. The bril- 
liant color charmed her. She gathered the 
blossoms as eagerly as though they were the 
rarest exotics ; tracing them to their true 
source, and expressing her wonder in mur- 
mured ejaculations. “ Isn’t it the strangest 
plant in the world ? ” she asked. 

“Oh, no!” replied Miss Greenleaf. “I 
have lately read a description of what seemed 
to me the two strangest plants in the world, 
and beside these the homely colt’s foot is 
of small account. Shall I tell you about 
them?” 

“ Yes, ma’am, please do,” answered the 
young girls in a breath. “ Here is a flat 
stone, where we can sit down ; and it will be 


THE NEW TEACHER . 


343 


so nice to have you talk to us ! I told Norah 
you knew almost every thing about plants 
and trees,” added Jessie, brushing aside some 
dry leaves. 

“ I know only a little, my dear ; but I am 
always learning and always interested. My 
strange plants grow in the torrid zone, where 
all vegetation is more rank and luxurious 
than here. One was discovered on the 
west coast of Africa by Dr. Welwitsch, and 
in honor of him it is called welwitschia. 
The stem is never more than a foot high, but 
it is sometimes four feet in diameter. It 
has only two leaves, and these are what 
botanists call cotyledons.” 

“ Please, what do you mean by that ? ” 

“ Let me ask you a question in reply. 
Have you ever noticed that the first leaves 
which spring up from a seed are very differ- 
ent from those which appear afterwards ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ! I remember that. When a 


344 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

squash-seed sprouts, it sends up two broad, 
thick leaves that are almost round ; but the 
next ones are as different as can be.” 

“Well, those two broad, thick leaves are 
the cotyledons; and the welwitschia never 
gets beyond them, though it is said 
to live for more than a hundred years. 
The same leaves last through all that 
time, too, growing larger and larger, 
until they are six feet long, and sometimes 
two or three feet wide. They are green, and 
tough like leather ; but the wind tears them 
into strings, and spreads them about on the 
ground. The flowers grow around the edge 
of the stem, several of them, rising on short 
peduncles ; and after the flowers, large cones 
appear, two inches long, and an inch in 
diameter. So you see it belongs to the same 
order as our pines.” 

“ How I wish I could see it! ” 

“ That was my first thought after reading 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


345 


a description of this plant. There is one in 
a glass case in the botanic gardens of Eng- 
land, where trees and plants have been col- 
lected from all parts of the world.’’ 

“ And, please, what about the other one 
you think so strange ? ” 

“ It is a parasite. That means an animal 
or vegetable which lives upon some other 
animal or vegetable, instead of getting its 
nourishment for itself. The rafflesia arnoldi 
grows from the roots of a vine in the island 
of Sumatra. It is only a flower, without 
any stem or any leaves, and it expands on 
the ground nearly three feet in diameter. It 
is of a pink color, and has the smell of meat, 
so that it attracts flies. Isn’t that more 
wonderful than the colt’s foot ? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am ; but I like these yellow 
heads, and I can find them for myself. I 
don’t see how the leaves you told about can 
last so long.” 


346 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ That’s because they were made to,” 
Jessie responded. “ You see, every thing is 
made a certain way, and there aint any mis- 
takes. I suppose those leaves all dry up, 
and then they’re so tough they last. Leaves 
don’t need to die every year where there 
isn’t any winter.” 

“ Your explanation is the true one,” said 
Miss Greenleaf. “ All created things have 
their purpose; and He who created them 
knows how to fit each to its use.” 

When they left their resting-place, the 
mind of Norah Borine had been quickened 
to new thoughts and questionings. The 
natural world, with its marvels of beauty and 
fitness, stretched away before her in an end- 
less vista. Still she was not unmindful of 
her present surroundings. She gleaned from 
moss-grown rocks and lichen-covered stumps, 
plucked an anemone from some sheltered 
nook, and then bounded away to examine 
the spotted leaves of the erythrinium. 


THE NEW TE AC TIER. 


347 


“ I thought I should find a flower this 
time,” she said in a tone of disappointment. 
“ They would be all in blossom in some 
places before now. I used to get them in 
April.” 

“ Father says the season is very late, but 
when things once get started they'll come 
forward fast. So we must keep our eyes 
open to see what there is. Here’s a tril- 
lium, isn’t it, Miss Greenleaf? — the one that 
smells so bad, nobody ever wants it, for all 
it comes so early, and looks so well.” 

“ Yes, that is a trillium ; but I have 
learned to call it the bath flower. By and 
by we shall have another trillium, the smil- 
ing wake-robin, like this in some respects, 
and in others as unlike it as a beautiful, 
loving woman is unlike one who is every 
way disagreeable.” 

“ I should think Miss Austen said that,” 
remarked Jessie. 


“ It sounds just as she 


348 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

talks ; and I think you are both of you smil- 
ing wake-robins.” 

“ I don’t know what wake-robins are ; 
but I like Miss Austen and Miss Greenleaf,” 
added Norah. 

“ I knew you would. I knew you 
couldn’t help it,” was the gleeful reply of 
her young friend. “ Now please look up 
through these hemlock trees, Miss Green- 
leaf. The light comes through them some 
as it did last spring through the pines, when 
we went for trailing arbutus. Don’t you 
remember about it? I can shut my eyes 
and see just how it looked. Oh, it was 
beautiful ! ” 

Alice Greenleaf had no need to close her 
eyes, to see again the scene which had so 
charmed her, when the warm rays of an 
April sun drew from the pines their sweet- 
est odors. Lichens of delicate green and 
softest gray clung to the sandy soil ; as 


THE NEW TEACHER. 


349 


though Nature had thrown broadcast her 
daintiest rugs of rare mosaic work, to con- 
ceal the lack of living verdure. Then, close 
at hand, was the trailing Mayflower, which, 
since it first received its name from some 
dear woman who welcomed it as the harbin- 
ger of better days after a winter of fearful 
cold and suffering, has held its place as 
queen of spring ; albeit its lowly mien 
savors little of royal pomp. Tiny cups, or 
bells, upturned, snowy white, or tinted as 
the rose is tinted, often hiding ’neath the 
rough and homely leaves belonging to itself, 
it waits to be gathered by some gentle hand. 
Bending to catch its fragrance ere ’tis sev- 
ered from the parent stem, few can give it 
other than a caressing touch. 

Alice Greenleaf was an artist, such as God 
had made her, her heart upspringing to the 
call of bird and bee, her hand outstretched 
to grasp each form of beauty, and her soul 


350 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

responding to the grand undertone of music 
which pervades the world. 

She had never felt so much her kinship to 
ad animate and inanimate objects, as on the 
day when she stood in the old pine woods, 
and culled the choicest and fairest from the 
profusion at her feet. 

Berries, glowing scarlet, and by their very 
abundance seeming quite unlike those she 
had found by the wayside or on some mossy 
hillock, — large, luscious, perfect ; scattered 
with a lavish hand, and waiting still for 
other hands to take the proffered gift. 

“ Beautiful ” was a word far too cold and 
inexpressive, to describe so much of loveli- 
ness ; yet her young companion could think 
of none more befitting. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


[ ASON STUART and Rufus Brown 
had been hard at work ; the former 
assisting his friend in order that they 
might enjoy an excursion together. As it 
was a holiday, he wished to improve it to the 
best advantage. 

“ If you want to let yourself for the sum- 


mer, I’ll hire you, and be glad to,” said his 
friend’s employer. “ You’re a good deal 
smarter than the average. Pity j^ou was 
born with a silver spoon in your mouth.” 

“ That silver spoon was taken out of my 


351 


552 rniNGS common and uncommon . 

mouth long ago,” was the quick reply. 
“ I’ve got to work my own way in the 
world, but I’ve not quite made up my mind 
to be a farmer.” 

“ Farming’s a good steady business for boys 
or men, and to my notion it’s as respectable 
as any.” 

“ Yes, sir ; but then you see we don’t all 
like the same kind of business, and it’s a 
good* thing for a fellow to make his own 
choice if he can.” 

“ So ’tis ; and if I aint mistaken you can 
be trusted to choose for yourself. Now, 
here’s Rufus. He’s trusty and sensible ; but 
his mother needs his help, and he thinks 
about what’s best for her.” 

“ Yes, sir, but he don’t need to forget his 
mother’s boy while he’s thinking about her. 
Perhaps you don’t know he keeps up with 
his class in school, and is as good a scholai 
as I am.” 


SEEING AND BEARING. 353 

“ I didn’t know it,” replied the fanner, 
looking at Rufus with an expression of sur- 
prise. “ I didn t know he was so bound 
up in his books. I hope he’ll have a chance 
at them, and see what he can do with book 
learning. I should liked to gone to school 
more when I was young, but there wa’n’t 
anybody to encourage me : so I settled down, 
and lately I haint thought much about such 
things. If my boys had lived they should 
had a chance at schooling. Perhaps I’ve 
made as much money as though I’d been a 
scholar, but it don’t seem to me I’ve took as 
much comfort. When I hear folks talking 
about things I don’t know any thing about, 
I always feel ashamed of my ignorance ; and 
such a feeling aint pleasant. I’m glad you 
told me about Rufus. I knew there wa’n’t 
any better boy round here than he is, but I 
didn’t know about his being such a good 
scholar. Going fishing this afternoon ? ” 


23 


354 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ We want to catch some fish, but that 
isn’t our principal business.” 

“ What is it, then, if you don’t mind telling 
me?” 

The man was really interested, and, more- 
over, he was beginning to feel that he had 
\ 

failed in some part of his duty to the poor 
boy whose filial kindness he had so warmly 
commended. 

“ Well, sir, we can’t exactly tell. We 
are going to see and hear all we can.” 

“ What do you expect to hear ? ” 

“ Birds, and squirrels, and bees. The 
willows and the maples are ready for the 
bees to feed on. It’s likely, too, we shall 
hear a good many musical sounds besides.” 

“ Shouldn’t think any thing strange if 
you did. I never went into the woods in 
my life when I didn’t hear curious noises. 
Sometimes ’taint any thing more than a leaf 
falling, and sometimes it’s some little animal 


SEEING AND BEARING. 


355 


following a path you and I wouldn’t know 
any thing about. Now, what do you expect 
to see ? ” 

“ Oh ! the sky, and water, and trees, and 
flowers, and stones, and moss, and lichens, 
and worms, and bugs, and flies, and every 
thing else there is to be seen. We calculate 
to keep our eyes open, and we expect 
there’ll be a grand show for us.” 

“ That’s the way to expect, and that’s a 
good deal better than running after these 
miserable shows that come travelling round 
to pick up money that ought to be spent for 
something else. There’s enough in the 
world to keep you busy, thinking and 
studying, without hunting up things you’ve 
no business with. Which way you going ? ” 

“ Rufus thought we’d better go down 
your lane, and then strike through the 
woods.” 

“ That’s a sensible thought in him, and 


356 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

I've got a favor to ask of you both. Will 
you grant it ? ” 

“ Yes, sir; of course we will,” was replied. 

“ All right. I know I can trust you. 
Don’t take any luncheon with you from 
home, but stop here on your way. If you 
aint hungry by the time you’ve been tramp- 
ing round three or four hours, you aint 
much like youngsters in general ; and my 
wife can put up as good a cold bite as any- 
body else.” 

“ But Aunt Comfort was going to put up 
a lunch for us,” said Mason, a little cha- 
grined that the favor was to be received, 
instead of given. u She will have it all 
ready.” 

“ Then let her give it to somebody that 
needs it. You won’t. You’re a boy to keep 
your word, aint you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. We’ll do as we promised, and 
thank you too.” 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


357 


Hardly an hour had passed before the two 
boys presented themselves in the large 
kdtchen, the very impersonation of youthful 
strength and eagerness. 

“ There’s your luncheon all ready for you, 
and I guess there’s as much as you’ll want 
for one afternoon,” said the farmer’s wife, in 
whose face there was. something of hardness 
despite her mild, blue eyes. “ You needn’t 
open the basket till you begin to get hungry. 
You’re dressed sensible, and that looks well. 
Father says you’re well mated. I hope 
you’ll enjoy yourselves.” 

“Now, if that wasn’t a limp, I didn’t see 
straight,” exclaimed Rufus, as they neared 
the woods. u I told you you ought not to 
work as you have this forenoon. I was 
afraid it would make you lame.” 

“Well, it hasn’t; and, if it had, what’s the 
difference ? I should have kept moving 
somewhere. I only twisted my ankle a little, 


o58 THINGS COMMON AND 0 COMMON. 

and I do that every day. I wanted you to 
come with me, and when I want a thing 
I’m willing to pay for it. That’s the way we 
have to do, whether we’re willing or not.” 

“ I guess it is, Mase ; but you do too 
much for me. How do you expect me to 
pay for that ? ” 

“ Look here, Rufe, what kind of a fellow 
do you take me for? ” was asked sharply. 

“ The best fellow in the world,” was 
responded without a moment’s hesitation. 
“ That’s no reason, though, why you should 
be all the time working for me.” 

“I’m not all the time working for you, 
and I’m not the best fellow in the world 
either. But I just think a good deal of 
you, and I like to act out my feelings. I 
never was worth much to make believe 
not like folks when I do. Aunt Margaret 
says, if we love anybody, the way to show 
our love is to do something to make that 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


359 


person happy. Telling folks you We them 
don’t amount to much, unless you back up 
your words with your actions.” 

u Sometimes the words do lots of good. 
You’ve got so many to love you, you don’t 
mind about it ; but I’ve only got my moth- 
er. I know she loves me, just as well as I 
do that the sun shines ; but it makes me 
real happy to have her tell me of it.” 

“ I don’t wonder it does, Rufe ; and, come 
to think of it, I guess we all like to hear 
such words once in a while ; ” and tears 
stood in the speaker’s eyes. “ I love you 
myself, and I hope you won’t say another 
word against my helping you. It does me 
more good than it does you.” 

This point settled, they walked on in 
silence until a flock of blackbirds attracted 
their attention. 

'‘Look out now for mischief as soon as 
there’s a chance for it,” remarked Rufus. 


360 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

u I’m always glad to see blackbirds in the 
spring, but they take more corn than I 
should want to spare if I was a farmer.” 

“ They take other things, too, the farmer 
is very glad to spare.” 

“I know it, and perhaps they do more 
good than hurt ; but corn is worth too much 
to feed crows or crow blackbirds. Perhaps 
we shall find a crow’s nest this afternoon.” 

“ I hope we shall. I’ve got on the right 
clothes for climbing, and I can rob a crow’s 
nest with a good conscience. You are inter- 
ested in getting rid of the thieves this year. 
You have planted some corn.” 

“Yes, and I want every kernel J can 
raise. It wont be much, any way, but 
every little helps. I’m going to follow your 
advice, and try to get as much of our living 
as we can without spending money. I want 
to catch fish enough for our breakfast to- 
morrow morning. I shall owe you for them, 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


361 


but perhaps there’ll be a chance to pay 
you sometime.” 

“I thought you were through with that 
sort of talk, Rufe. How do I know but 
what you’ll save my life yet ? ” 

“ I’d risk* my own to save yours any 
time, Mase. I’m not the boy I should have 
been if you hadn’t taken me up, and en- 
couraged me to think I could do something, 
for all mother is so poor. Halloo ! there’s 
a crow flying over, still as he can be. 
That’s a sure sign he’s got a nest with 
some eggs or some young crows in it.” 

“What do you mean by that?” asked 
Mason. 

“ What I say. Crows are noisy some sea- 
sons of the year; but after their nests are 
made, till the young ones can take care of 
themselves, you won’t hear much from them. 
They keep still. I got a nest of young 
crows last year, and I don’t doubt but what 


362 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

the old ones were where they could see 
every thing that was going on; but they 
didn’t one of them, young or old, make 
any more noise than if they’d been dead.” 

“ That’s something I never thought of 
before. I thought all birds made a great 
outcry when anybody goes near their nests. 
T don’t mean I thought so, for I guess I 
never thought about it really ; but I remem- 
ber hearing them, and sometimes I’ve found 
nests just from their crying and fluttering 
about so. Crows must be the exception to 
a general rule.’ 

“ I don’t know but they are, A^y way, 
their keeping still almost makes me pity 
them, same as I do a little child when it 
feels bad and don’t cry. There are the 
bees you expected to see,” said Rufus, in- 
terrupting himself in his talk about the 
evil bird. “ The top of that maple stump 
over there is covered with them. Some- 


BEEING ANV HEARING. 363 

body chopped down a tree, and made a lit- 
tie pasture for them. The sap fries out, and 
turns to sugar, and the bees carry it off to 
make honey. They know where to look for 
something sweet. See what a lot of them 
there are. How do you suppose they found 
the way to this tree ? You know more about 
such things than I do. You’ve heard more 
talk about them.” 

“ Perhaps I have ; but talk don’t always 
amount to any thing of consequence. It’s 
best to see for ourselves if we can. We 
can t spend time, though, to watch a great 
many things, till we find out all we want 
to know about them. There’s been a great 
deal written about bees ; and the amount of 
the whole of it is, that they were made to 
do their own work, and instinct teaches 
them how to do it. They make millions of 
pounds of 'honey every year. Tell you 
what, that makes it seem as though folks 


364 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

with brains ought to do more than the 
shiftless ones do, or the smart ones either. 
It makes me ashamed of myself. There’s 
one thing, though, that looks as if bees 
worked some like machines. They never 
make any improvements.” 

“They don’t need to, do they? Didn’t 
they begin right in the first place ?” 

“Yes, they did. Did you know that the 
shape of their cells is exactly the one that 
will give them the greatest number in a 
given space, and make them' the strongest 
with the least work ? That’s what the best 
builders and mathematicians say. They 
studied ever so long to find it out, but the 
bees knew it by instinct.” 

“I didn’t know that before, Mase. I’m 
glad you told me. The next time I see 
a piece of honeycomb, I shall look at it 
sharp. Mother says she thinks our garden 
would be a good place for bees, because they 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


365 


can come down hill with their loads easier 
than they come up ; and then there’s a 
good deal of white clover about our house. 
That makes the nicest honey in the world.” 

“ So it does, and I wish you had some bees. 
You could begin with one hive ; and, if you 
had good luck, you’d soon have as many as 
you wanted from new swarms.” 

“ Sometimes the swarms go off, and are 
lost.” 

“ I know they do, but you must look out 
for that. I guess the bees would like you. 
Aunt Margaret says they don’t like every- 
body. They don’t like cross, dirty, bad- 
smelling people. You could manage them, 
Rufe, I know ; and I wish there’d a swarm 
come to you some day. Aunt Comfort 
knows a good deal about bees. Her father 
used to keep them, and when he died her 
mother went and told them he was dead. 
She said they’d have gone off if somebody 
hadn’t told them.” 


366 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 


“ Do you believe that ? ” 

“ I don’t know ; but Aunt Comfort believes 
it, and I’m not so sure that strange things 
aren’t true as I used to be. You’d better get 
a hive ready, so if a swarm of bees comes 
along you’ll be ready for it. I think likely 
there’s an old hollow tree in this very woods 
where there’s lots of last year’s honey ; and 
for my part I wish I had some of it. But 
there, it wont do to stay here all the after- 
noon. We shall forget what we started for.” 

“ We have found part of what we started 
for. Look up. There’s a crow. See where 
he goes.” 

The boys were standing upon an eminence, 
from which they could watch the glossy 
black wings until these ceased their flapping 
above a clump of hemlocks. 

44 Bet you there’s a nest over there,’' 
exclaimed Rufus. “ Let’s find out. We’ve 
got a long afternoon before us, and I sha’n’t 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


367 


get away from work again very soon. Come 
on.” 

Nothing loth, Mason followed his friend, 
who strode along rapidly in the direction of 
the tall evergreens. The distance was con- 
siderable, but it was quickly accomplished ; 
and then two pair of eyes were upturned, to 
discern, if possible, these outlaws of forest 
and field. 

“ I aint sure, but seems to me there’s 
something more in the top of this tree than 
grows there,” said Rufus after a prolonged 
scrutiny. “ Any way, I’ll find out. There’s 
a small spruce somebody’s cut down and 
left here, that’ll make a pretty good ladder. 
That’ll help part way, so I sha’n’t have to 
shin it so far. It’s a long stretch to the lower 
limbs, and I don’t care about wasting my 
strength. If I had a tough vine or a rope, I 
might try the South Sea Islander’s way ; but 
you hold this ladder steady and I shall be all 
righto” 


368 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“ Don’t fall. Aunt Margaret says we 
ought to be careful, though she wants boys 
to climb anywhere that’s necessary without 
being afraid. I never tried a tree yet, that I 
didn’t go up as high as I wanted to.” 

“We all know that, Mase ; but my ankles 
are both of them strong, and I’m good for 
this job.” 

Using both hands and feet, he passed over 
the round ladder, and then made his way 
slowly until he found firm footing. Up, up 
he went, to find himself fully rewarded for 
his labor. 

“ Here they are,” he shouted. “ Four 
young ones, all necks and legs. I’m going 
to throw them down, and you just put the 
heel of your boot on their heads. That’ll 
finish them. There’s another nest in the 
fourth tree from this one, and the old crows 
are somewhere round, watching to see what’s 
going on. Now hear what the young ones 
have to say about it.” 


SEEING AND HEARING . 


369 


Not a sound escaped them, as one after 
another they were thrown to the ground, 
falling helplessly, as like to the description 
Rufus had given of them as like could be. 

“ Put them out of their misery as quick 
as you can.” 

“I’ve finished them,” was the quick re- 
sponse to this injunction. “ The small birds 
ought to thank us. There’s nothing makes 
me so boiling over mad, as it does to see a 
crow robbing every nest it can find. They 
make a clean sweep, and we’ll do the same 
thing. I suppose ’twould sound better for 
me to say it makes me angry, but that don’t 
begin to describe my feelings. When you 
get down I’ll go up that other tree. I’m 
going to do half the hard work.” 

There was some friendly contention over 
this, which ended at last when Mason posi- 
tively refused to yield. There was not a 
more daring boy in town than he, not one 


370 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

who could climb more swiftly and surely ; 
and, if his ankle dumbly protested against 
the service imposed upon it, he made no sign. 
In announcing his success, he sent to instant 
destruction four more as ugly looking crea- 
tures as were ever classed among birds. 

“ That’s a good job done,” he said when he 
reached the ground. “ Now I should like to 
know where the fathers and mothers are.” 

“ In some of the trees round here, but it’s 
of no use for you to look for them.” 

“ Do you suppose they care any thing about 
it? They’re so cruel, perhaps they don’t 
care for their own children.” 

“ Yes, they do. The books say that wdld 
beasts are more ferocious when they have 
young ones than at any other time ; and I 
suppose the crows feed their young ones on 
eggs they steal from other birds. I don’t 
think, though, they are quite as bad as 
hawks.” 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


371 


“ I think they are, as far as they can be. 
They’ll take chickens when they can find 
them small enough. I hate hawks as bad as 
you can, and this year I’m looking out for 
them sharper than I ever did before. J 
can’t afford to lose any of my chickens. I’ve 
got forty, and I mean to pick up enough to 
keep them without costing me much. Then 
I’ll sell them, and give the money to mother. 
Look up ! There’s a hawk this minute, but 
it wont do to stop here any longer ; and if 
we did we couldn’t kill the miserable fellow.” 

“ After all, I suppose hawks have a right 
to live, else they wouldn’t be here,” said 
Mason. 

“ Then let them live on what they’ve a 
right to,” was quickly replied. “ There are 
plenty of frogs and lizards and snakes, be- 
sides hosts of rats and mice and moles. No- 
body’ll quarrel with them for taking such 
creatures. I saw a hawk mousing in the 


372 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

back meadow, one day last summer ; and he 
made good work at it. I’ve hunted for theii 
nests, but I never found one ; though I guess 
I could if I had time enough. There is 
always work waiting for me, and I’m glad I 
can do it.” 

“That’s the best of it all; and you can 
choose, too, what to do. We can choose 
what kind of men we shall be. What kind 
of a man do you choose to be, Rufe? ” 

“ A good one. I should like to be so good 
I should always do right, and so strong and 
rich, I could help everybody that needed 
help.” 

“ That’s a good choice ; and I should like 
the same, only I want to know ever so much 
besides. Hear that squirrel chattering ; and 
there’s another answering. They’re having 
a concert. That makes me think, that in 
the last letter Ed wrote to Aunt Margaret, 
he told her that Robert Bumstead found a 


SEEING AND HEARING . 


373 


nest of squirrels in the shed chamber, where 
there was a lot of butternuts. Robert was 
trying to tame them, so they would eat out 
of his hand. I should like to find such a 
nest myself.” 

“I guess there are enough of them not far 
off. Squirrels were so plenty last fall, I 
didn’t know as I should get any nuts at all ; 
and, as for our big sweet apples, they were 
sure to take the ripest and best. But there’s 
another sound. According to your plan, it 
was a part of our business to listen to every 
thing we hear.” 

44 Yes, that’s it. A woodpecker is making 
that noise. There’s a pair of them getting 
ready to set up housekeeping ; and, instead 
of putting a roof on their house, they dig 
their house under a roof. I hope, when they 
get it ready, they wont be turned out.” 

44 What do you mean by that, Mason ? ” 

44 Why, sometimes other birds take a fancj 


374 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

to the woodpeckers’ nests, and drive them 
out. You see, Madge is always studying 
about birds, and I learn a good deal by hear- 
ing her talk. There’s one kind of wood- 
pecker people call the log-cock, because it 
works away so at old logs and fallen trees. 
It tears off the bark, and rips out chips at a 
great rate. One day, down in Maine, a man 
who was in the woods heard such a noise, he 
thought there was a bear somewhere near ; 
but, when he got to where the noise came 
from, he found one of these log-cocks tearing 
away at an old log.” 

64 What was he doing that for ? ” 
a I suppose he found something to eat. 
There would be bugs and worms and beetles 
in such a log, and they are woodpeckers’ 
dainties. There’s a tree with the bark 
drilled full of round holes, smooth as though 
they’d been cut. Likely a golden-winged or 
a downy-headed woodpecker did that. If 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


375 


we had been near here then, we might have 
heard him whacking away with his bill; 
and, if we could see quick enough, we should 
have found out that he had a tongue made 
expressly to draw out the insects after he 
got on their track.” 

“I suppose we should; but they don’t 
make any such noise as a great clumsy bear 
would. I can’t quite believe your Maine 
story.” 

“I didn’t at first; but that woodpecker 
isn’t like what we have round here. The 
book said it looked like a black hen ; and I 
suppose it worked so fast it made a great 
noise.” 

“ That must have been the way. I wish I 
had a sister to learn about things, and then 
tell me. It’s a great help to a fellow.” 

“ That’s a fact ; and my sisters stir me up, 
so I have to keep wide awake, or else they’ll 
get ahead of me. Now, what next?” 


376 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

“There’s an ant’s nest in that rotten 
stump. If you tear it open, and look sharp, 
you can see some ants’ eggs.” 

“ I don’t care about it now. I’m thinking 
about fishing. Ants are worth studying 
though. They keep cows. Did you know 
that?” 

“ No ; and I guess you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do ; and they depend on their 
cows as much as you do on Clover Top.” 

“ Now, Mase Stuart, if you were anybody 
else, I should say that was a whopper.” 

“Well, I’m not anybody else, and that 
isn’t a whopper. Their cows are aphides , or 
plant-lice ; and the ants know where to find 
them.” 

“ But I can’t see.” 

“ Of course you can’t. When I first 
heard of it, I didn’t believe it ; but now I 
know it’s true. The little cows are the 
same that make honey-dew ; and ants like 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


377 


honey, no matter who makes it. Some time 
we’ll take a magnifying-glass, and pay them 
a visit at milking time.” 

The boys walked rapidly as they talked, 
and soon came to the brook which was here 
overshadowed by wide- spreading trees, whose 
interlacing branches, when covered with 
leaves, allowed scarcely a ray of sunlight to 
fall upon the water in which they were mir- 
rored. Rufus knew the place well. It was 
his favorite resort whenever he could com • 
mand the time to angle for a luxurious repast. 

Two strong, flexible rods were in waiting 
just where he had left them months before. 
To these, lines were quickly attached, and 
hooks baited. Then, that they might not 
interfere with each other, the friends sepa- 
rated ; Mason choosing a pool of great depth, 
by which a stump, whose roots were partly 
upturned, furnished a comfortable seat he 
was glad to appropriate. He had sat there 


878 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

before with no thought of its insecu- 
rity. 

Nor a word was spoken. Rufus was in- 
tent upon his occupation, when a loud splash 
startled him; and, turning to look for the 
cause, he saw only the troubled waters and 
half submerged stump. He uttered one ago- 
nized cry, and rushed to the spot. Grasping 
the stump, as he planted his feet firmly, he 
replaced it in the bed from which it had been 
torn, and, at the same instant, caught a 
glimpse of a wan, white face. 

Fortunately, he was an expert diver and 
swimmer. He had often measured his 
strength with that of Mason Stuart, coming 
to the goal at the same moment ; and now, 
when it was life or death for his comrade, he 
was quick to see what must be done. Shoes 
and jacket were thrown aside, and he 
plunged into the pool. He knew there was 
danger from perilous surroundings, but he 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


379 


did not think of his own dangei He must 
save his friend. It seemed an age that he 
struggled in the water, sustaining a heavy 
burden, and striving in vain to escape from 
the treacherous element. Again and again 
what seemed to him solid ground gave 
way, mocking his efforts. A terrible, well 
nigli despairing fear gave him momentary 
strength, and they were safe. Yet he lay 
panting, as if his very life would go out, 
while the face of his friend was like the face 
of the dead. Limp and motionless was the 
prostrate form beside him, and the sight 
roused him to renewed action. 

What he did he could never tell ; but 
after a long, long time there was the quiv- 
ering of lips and eyelids, and the feeble 
fluttering of a young, brave heart, which 
inspired him with hope. Then came quick 
convulsive gasps, which at length gave place 
to regular breathing, and animation was 
fully restored. 


380 TTTINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ What is it ? ” asked the half conscious 
boy. “ What’s the matter ? ” 

“ The matter is that you have been in the 
water; but you’re all right now,” replied 
Rufus, compelling himself to speak quietly 
and cheerfully. “ The old stump was too 
far gone to hold you. Are you hurt? ” 

“ Guess not. Can’t tell. My head feels 
so I don’t know. Something struck it ; but 
you’re all wet.” 

“ Of course I am. Couldn’t go into the 
water, and not get wet. O Mason, I thought 
I’d lost you ! ” and tears attested to the 
deep emotion of the speaker. “ This won’t 
do,” he exclaimed directly. “ The business 
now is to find out how we are going to get 
home. Do you suppose you can walk a 
step?” 

“ I can try,” answered Mason Stuart, and 
with assistance he succeeded in rising to his 
feet. “ I need warming up, and ” — 


SEEING AND HEARING. 


381 


It was of no use to fight against the weak- 
ness which overpowered him. He could not 
take a single step. He must be left alone 
while his friend went for help ; and, pro- 
tected by the only dry garment at hand, he 
lay down upon a heap of leaves to wait the 
result. 

Again Rufus forgot himself in his anxiety 
for another. Exercise quickened his pulse, 
and sent the warm blood leaping through his 
veins. He hastened forward, shouting as he 
went, “ Help, help ! ” 

“ Where’s help wanted ? ” came the reply 
at length. 

“ By the brook. Help, help ! Come ! 
Quick ! ” 

“Ay, ay!” 

When this was heard, Rufus sunk down ; 
and he, too, waited until Mr. Furber came 
near. A few words sufficed to explain the 
situation ; when the farmer said perempto- 


832 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

rily, “Keep on to the house. I’ll look 
after that boy. Hurry up, and tell Miss 
Furber about it.” 

Mason Stuart opened his eyes languidly 
as his name was pronounced; but he was 
quite too weak to make any opposition when 
Mr. Furber lifted him from the ground, and 
started homeward, carrying him as tenderly 
as if he were a child. 

Meanwhile a bed was made ready for him 
by the farmer’s wife ; and, when he reached 
the house, he found Rufus sitting before a 
blazing fire in the most comfortable chair 
the house afforded. He attempted a humor- 
ous remark, but the humor exhaled in a long- 
drawn sigh. 

Mrs. Stuart was summoned, and came 
with Dr. Gray, who carried Mason home, 
where Aunt Margaret was the first to greet 

him. 

“I’m ever so glad you’re here, Margie,” 


8EE1NG AND BEADING. 383 

he murmured. “ I should have drowned if it 
hadn’t been for Rufus. He’s the best fel- 
low ; but I feel like a baby. Kiss me, please, 
Margie.” 




CHAPTER XIX. 

A LIFE SAVED. 

« UFUS BROWN was not forgotten by 
the family which owed so much to 
him. Clarke went at once to his 
mother’s, and expressed their appreciation 
of his heroism. 

“ I’m glad he could do it,” was the widow’s 
simple reply. 44 We’ve a great deal to be 
thankful for to you all, and Rufus would 
give his life to save Mason’s any time ; 
though I don’t know how I could do without 
him. I don’t think he s hurt ; but I wanted 
him to go to bed, and get a good long rest.” 

44 He needs a long rest ; and please, Mrs. 


884 



A LIFE SAVED, 


385 


Brown, don’t let him work any more this 
week. Mason will wish to see him by 
morning. We owe him a larger debt than 
we can ever pay.” 

“ Well, I don’t know about that,” re- 
sponded the mother with tears standing in 
her eyes. “ ’Twas every thing to have 
Mason’s life saved, but it wa’n’t much for 
Rufus to go into the water after him. He 
said ’twas a bad place, on account of roots 
and the crumbling bank; and the brook’s 
wider there, and deeper too, the whole 
width, than anywhere else this side the 
mill. Tell your mother, Mr. Stuart, that I 
thank the Lord for sparing her boy to her. 
There’s been a providence in his friendship 
lor Rufus. I’ve felt that all along ; but I 
didn't know how ’twould end.” 

The end was not yet, as Mrs. Brown was 
made aware the next morning, when Miss 
Margaret Austen came at an early hour to 
inquire for her son. 26 


386 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

“ Gone to work ! ” exclaimed the lady in 
a tone of surprise. “He ought not to do 
that. I hardly expected to find him up.” 

“ He said he was well as ever, and he 
couldn’t afford to lose any time,” replied 
Mrs. Brown. “ I said a good deal to him to 
have him rest to-day; but I couldn’t per- 
suade him, and I don’t often tell him what 
he must do. He meant to get through in 
season to go to Mrs. Stuart’s this even- 
ing.” 

“ Mason will think that a long time to 
wait.” 

“ He aint hurt so he’s going to be laid up ; 
is he, Miss Austen ? ” 

“ We hope not. But he complains of his 
head, and seems inclined to keep very quiet. 
He talks more about Rufus than he does 
about himself.” 

“ He’s the best boy I ever saw, and that 
aint saying any thing against my own boy,” 


A LIFE SAVED. 


387 


remarked Mrs. Brown with great emphasis 
“ I’m afraid them that see him all the time 
at home don’t know how to prize him. After 
Rufus cut his foot, last winter, he used to 
come here and do chores for me just as 
though it belonged to him to do them ; and, 
when I said any thing against it, he’d turn 
me off as polite as could be, and keep right 
along. That want all he done either. He 
earned money to bring to me; and there 
wa’n’t a day, unless ’twas Sundays, but what 
he brought us something to help us along. 
He’s a Christian, if there’s one in the world ; 
and the way he’s encouraged Rufus has done 
more good than all the rest. I’m glad my 
boy could do something for him. I know 
you’ve always thought a sight of him, Miss 
Austen, and you’ve reason to.” 

“ I was always sure of that, Mrs. Brown. 
Mason has never disappointed me.” 

Much more was said ; the conversation 


388 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON. 

being prolonged until the visitor felt obliged 
to leave, that she might return to her 
nephew, who was unwilling to have her 
away from him. 

In the evening Rufus Brown presented 
himself at Mrs. Stuart’s. 

“ O you dear old fellow ! I’m thankful to 
see you,” was the greeting he received from 
Mason. Then two arms were thrown tightly 
around his neck, and kisses pressed upon his 
lips. “ I’ve been wanting you all day.” 

“ And I’ve wanted you,” was the reply. 
“ But Mr. Furber’s work needed doing. He 
hasn’t let me work much though. He said 
I might play, and he’d do enough for us both. 
He sent me after our lunch-basket, though, 
for one thing. You aint really hurt, are 
you, Mason ? ” 

“ I hope not. My head feels queer when 
I try to think, but I don’t mean to think 
much. Aunt Margaret’s going to let me go 


A LIFE SAVED . 


389 


back to Austenville with her ; so you see 
there's something gained any way. And 
here's something for you too." 

Saying this, the speaker gave to his com- 
panion a bank-book, in which the sum of 
two hundred dollars was placed to the credit 
of Bufus L. Brown. This amount had been 
deposited that day. 

“ What does it mean, Mase?" was asked 
wonderingly. 

“It means that mother and Aunt Mar- 
garet have, each of them, made you a pres- 
ent, and put it where it will be gaining till 
you want to use it. They think I am worth 
as much as that; and if it hadn't been for 
you they wouldn’t have me. That's the 
whole story ; and you needn't be too inde- 
pendent to take it. They can do it just as well 
as not, and I'll see that they are well paid 
for it. Now, then, you have a little before- 
hand ; " and the boy made a vain effort to 
subdue the huskiness of his voice. 


390 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

Rufus was overwhelmed. His first feel- 
ings prompted him to a positive rejection of 
the gift ; but better counsel prevailed, and 
with a grateful heart he accepted the kind- 
ness of his friends, although disclaiming any 
merit in his conduct. When told of this, 
his mother raised her hands in dumb sur- 
prise, then wept as she had never wept 
when poverty threatened her sorest. She 
shrank from dependence, yet she could not 
but rejoice that some provision was made for 
her son. 

He went to his work each morning, and 
each evening visited his friend, so that the 
days passed rapidly, marked by little of in- 
cident, until Mason announced the fact that 
Margie was ready to go back to Austen- 
ville. 

“ And you are going with her,” said 
Rufus. 

“ Yes, I am. I feel pretty well, but the 


A LIFE SAVED. 


391 


doctor says I ought not to study hooks at 
present. Dick thinks so too, and you know 
he is half a doctor. Splendid fellow he is. 
I expect he’ll make us all proud of him, and 
I’ve told him so a good many times. You’d 
like him if you knew him as well as I do.” 

“ I like him now ; but, you see, he is a 
young man with plenty of money, and I am 
only a poor boy.” 

“ Well, what of that? Perhaps he’ll be a 
poor man when you’re a rich one ; and per- 
haps you’ll have a greater name than he will. 
You can’t tell any thing about who is going 
to get up highest, only it’s pretty sure to be 
the one who keeps climbing right along. 
You’re good for that. I expect you’ll go by 
me in books this summer ; but I shall learn 
some things not put down in books. I wish 
you could be with me. Aunt Margaret 
thinks ever so much of you, and so does 
Ed, though he hasn’t written about you 


392 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

only that once, when I told you. He’s too 
busy doing Aunt Margie’s work, and his 
own too.” 

“ He must be busy ; and there isn’t any 
reason why he should write or think about 
me.” 

“ Yes there is, Rufe. You saved my life ; 
and I am something to him, if he is a grown- 
up man.” 

Edward Stuart had never realized how much 
this persistent, aggressive brother was to him 
until he read of the accident which had so 
nearly proved fatal. Then his heart gave a 
sudden bound ; and he knew how interwoven 
with all his hopes and plans, were the ambi- 
tious dreams in which his young brother 
bore a part. 

“Be sure to take Mason with you,” he 
wrote to his aunt; and the day they were 
expected he went to the station himself to 
meet them. 


A LIFE SAVED. 


393 


To his eyes Mason had changed much, but 
he forbore to say this ; and soon he was 
so engaged in answering questions that he 
had no opportunity for other talking. 

“ There is home,” he said at length, as 
they caught a glimpse of the old stone mill 
and its surroundings. “ Do you think you 
shall be contented to have it for your home 
the next three months ? ” 

“ Think ? I know I shall,” was the quick 
reply. “I can’t do the subject justice till I 
get rested. Then you’ll see and hear 
enough of me. Oh, what a grand place ! ” 
he added soon after, as the little village was 
outspread before them. “ I’m glad mother 
lost that ten thousand dollars; aren’t you, 
Ed?” 

“ I don’t know that I am prepared to say 
quite that.” 

“Well, I am. It’s just been the making 
of you, and I think ’twill be of Clarke. 


394 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

You were a good fellow before ; reliable, 
and a good scholar, and all that ; but it’s 
something for a man to look round, and 
think he can help straighten out things that 
are crooked. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t 
it?” 

“ Something of the kind ; and in their 
way our people are all helping, from Mr. 
Bumstead to Mrs. Brady.” 

“ Who is Mrs. Brady ? ” 

“ Our best weaver, and the grandmother 
of the young girl you can see just in the edge 
of the woods. That is Norah Borine.” 

“ Oh ! I’ve heard of her. Aunt Margie 
has told me, and I’m going to get acquainted 
with her if she is shy. I’m used to girls; 
and I guess they’re all a good deal alike, the 
same as boys are.” 

Nothing escaped this boy’s notice. The 
trees seemed grander, the grass greener, and 
the flowers brighter, than those he had left 
behind. 


A LIFE SAVED. 


395 


“ I’m glad mother lost that ten thousand 
dollars,” he said once more. “ This is 
almost better than grandfather’s house. Is 
that woman standing on the piazza Mrs. 
Bumstead ? ” 

‘•Yes, and a dear, good woman she is,” 
replied his aunt. “I am as glad to see her 
as she is to see me.” 

Up the avenue they drove, while cottage 
doors and windows were thrown wide open, 
that their inmates might have a better view 
of the lady whom they regarded with so 
much esteem. Hardly had she responded to 
the affectionate greetings of Mrs. Bumstead, 
and expressed her own pleasure at being 
again in Austenville, when Mr. Bumstead 
came hurrying in. 

“ Sure, now, this is the best day I’ve seen 
for five weeks,” he exclaimed. “ We’ve 
managed to keep the mill going without you, 
but I don’t want to try it again very soon. 


396 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

It seemed as though we ought to give the 
big wheel a push, every morning, to make 
certain ’twould turn over as many times as it 
ought to. We’re all so glad to see you 
back ! I didn’t know but ’twas best to ring 
the bell, so you might understand it.” 

“ I understand it now, and fully recipro- 
cate the gladness,” answered Miss Austen, 
without withdrawing her hands from the 
strong clasp in which they were held. 
“ You see, I have brought another boy.” 

“ I’ve been expecting him. There can’t 
be too many of the right kind. I’m think- 
ing we shall find a way to get along with this 
one ; ” and now Mason’s hands were impris- 
oned. 

“ I’m not a hard boy to get along with, 
sir,” was the quick reply. 

“ Sure, lad, I think you’re not. At the 
worst, there’s room enough here ; and your 
aunt can manage any boy I ever saw.” 


A LIFE SAVED. 


897 


“ Yes, sir : she always managed all of us.” 

“ And a good thing it was for you.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Well, I hope you’ll like Austenyille, and 
get well here. You don’t look over strong ; 
but you’ve a good frame to build on, and my 
wife will know just what you need. Shook 
hands with her yet?” 

“ Yes, sir ; but I haven’t seen Robert.” 

“ You’ll see him soon enough. He’ll not 
be long in coming when he knows the 
mistress is here.” 

The meeting between these boys was 
undemonstrative, and yet each regarded the 
other with evident interest. Now that the 
first excitement of his arrival had subsided, 
the new-comer was too weary to say more 
than courtesy required ; and Robert waited 
for him to take the initiative. When supper 
had been eaten, his aunt showed him to his 
room, and left him to rest. 


398 THINGS COMMON AND UNCOMMON . 

To many it would seem that little had 
transpired during her absence, — surely little 
of which she had not been informed by 
letter ; but events which were counted 
trivial by others were of great significance 
to Margaret Austen. When alone with her 
nephew, it was apparent that the running of 
the mill and the work which had been 
accomplished were, for the time, of secondary 
consideration to her. 

She asked how Mr. Elliot appeared in the 
sabbath evening meetings, and what Harold 
had said. No one was forgotten in her 
inquiries ; but, after the meeting, she re- 
garded the school as next in importance. 

“ The school is what it should be,” said 
Edward Stuart emphatically. “ We could 
not have a better teacher. Miss Greenleaf 
is a rare woman ; and here is the place for 
her to develop her own talents, as well as the 
talents of others. She has made the ac- 


A LIFE SAVED 


399 


quaintance of most of the people in the dis- 
trict ; and, for every acquaintance she has 
made, she has gained a friend. Jessie and 
Norah love her with all their hearts, while 
Harold and Robert would be happy to do 
her a favor at almost any cost to themselves. 
If I am not mistaken, she has a great deal 
of latent power of which she is unconscious. 
You will help her to discover it, and she will 
be a wonderful accession to our summer 
resources.” 





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